Into the Woods
by Rebel Paisley
Summary: The story of how Shane, Tori, and Dustin were recruited into the academy, began learning the ins and outs of being a ninja, and eventually became friends. Pre-series.
1. Prologue

Chapter 1

Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own Power Rangers or the musical Into the Woods. Not for lack of want.

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><p>While there were many things vital to running and maintaining a Ninja Academy, many aspects imperative to teaching and passing along decades of honored tradition, Kanoi could not help but feel that the most crucial part of his duties as Head of the Wind Academy was the process of recruiting.<p>

All academies had there own selection process, specified to their needs and standards, and the Wind Academy was no different. Students were selected based on previous martial arts experience (while whatever training they had received would not compare to the difficulty level of the Academy in the slightest, it would be to their advantage to have _some_ kind of familiarity with defending themselves); athletic abilities (if they were incapable of jogging a few miles without complaint they would not be suited for the ninja lifestyle), affinity towards an element (earth, air, or water), and of course their overall temperament and character (to ensure there were no repeat incidents like that of his- of Lothor).

The age of the candidates varied based on the circumstances. Those who chose to completely dedicate themselves to the academy raised their children there, grooming them to be the next generation of teachers, if they so chose to be. As for outsiders, the Wind Academy started considering them when they turned sixteen, so that training would carry on through their last two years of high school, if they were successful. It wasn't enough time to master ninjutsu, but it would give them ample opportunity to, as they say, "get their feet wet". That is, to learn the basics about defending themselves and to at least _begin_ to understand their special connection to their particular element. If after they graduated High School they wished to continue their training here, they were more than welcome to stay.

Because they would need a firm grasp of the basics, selection and training of new students began in the summer. It also served to eliminate any other distractions they would normally face during the school year.

Secrecy was also of great importance (another solid reason to evaluate each possible student-to-be's character). To stay hidden in the shadows was the ninja's way, and the forced seclusion allowed themselves to be unaffected by the will of the outside world. Modern society would not understand them; they did not "fit in" to their perception of reality. Kanoi's predecessors had taken that weight from their shoulder many years ago, something that Kanoi and every Sensei that ever followed him would hold to.

That was why all knowledge of the Wind Academy and all its teachings must be kept to the student and the student alone. Family, friends, and acquaintances must never become aware of the true nature of the Academy. As far as they were concerned it was a simple dojo in the woods where basic hand-to-hand combat was taught, (pamphlets had been made to support this false story, to make the transition easier).

There were thirty positions available, ten for each element, give or take (now that the previous class of ninja's had graduated basic training) and were he able to Kanoi would go out and scrutinize and hand pick every one of them. Unfortunately his position demanded too many responsibilities for him to be allowed the time to do so, so instead the teachers of this new bunch (senior ninjas who had almost completed their studies) would be the ones to go out into the world and search for prospective trainees. Not only did they have the necessary free time, they would also specifically search for students who had a connection to their particular element.

Kanoi had faith in them; he had overseen their training from day one, watched them grow as not only a team, but as individuals.

He had no favorites (his position had conditioned him against it) but he could admit to having a certain fondness for the bunch; and if the teenagers they selected were anything like them, if they had any of their courage and perseverance, Kanoi knew the academy would be fine.

In short, he would trust their selections as though they were his own.

The teachers, Ian (water), Victor (air), and Teagan (earth), had each managed to fill at least half of their quota with confirmed students after searching for five months, (Ian with seven, Teagan with eight, and Victor, ever the picky one, with five), but the summer was only a month away and they needed to find (three, two, five) in order to continue the Wind Academy's prosperity.

Kanoi had already called Victor in to have a conversation about his standards, forcing the head sensei to lecture his student on the simple brilliance that was imperfection.

If the teenagers Victor picked already met all the qualifications perfectly there would be no point in inviting them to partake in the Wind Academy tradition. Yes, there were certain protocols to be followed; but these teenagers were…clay, once they came here they would be sculpted into fine art, but they would not begin that way. The quality of the clay still had to be good, but if it was already made into a masterpiece then why bother with it at all?

Kanoi loathed having these conversations; especially with one of his fav… especially with one of his more _treasured_ students, but air ninjas were the leaders and at the rate Victor was going, five teams would have no one to lead them!

When they began training the students would be divided by their elements to learn the basics, but once the school year started up again the academy would place them into squads of three, with one student from each element. This system forced students who may have considered themselves "lone wolves" to interact with their classmates, and it gave students who might be shy the opportunity of friendship.

As a squad they learn teamwork, effective communication, and trust, but as it stood five of the squads would be unable to do so because of his one stubborn teacher.

It appeared that _someone_ did not fully recall _his_ imperfections when he was a novice.

Kanoi was more than happy to remind him.

…To think in one month the Academy would be flooded with new talent; eager to learn and willing to participate in a foreign lifestyle, their enthusiasm as contagious as a yawn, filling the quiet and almost deserted courtyard with energy and noise. Only one month before thirty students (Victor be willing) began to lose their ignorance of this hidden Academy.

Kanoi was prepared.

His teachers, nervous, but confident.

Despite minor setbacks, it was as good a beginning as any other.

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><p>Endnotes:<p>

Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! H-eeeeeeeeeeeeey! Hey all you people who read all the way to the end!

Thank you!

I would like to begin by saying that yes, there are OC's in this story, but only because they are necessary. There are no extra characters provided for us in the series so I invented a few to teach the classes. I feel you should know that I'm not the biggest fan when it comes to using OC's and I will try to keep as much of the focus on Shane, Dustin, and Tori as I can.

Speaking of whom, we will see more of them in the next chapter, I just wanted to get all the background information about the selection process out of the way before we moved on to them.

I guarantee you, future chapters will be longer.

Until next time.


	2. At first glance

Chapter 2

At First Glance

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><p>Victor had a nasty habit of scaring off the talent.<p>

It wasn't something he intended to do (though Teagan thought he could be trying just a _little_ bit harder to seem less intimidating when he talked to people, after all _she_ didn't find it very hard to put a smile on), he just had a bad habit of taking it way too seriously…_way_ too seriously. He wasn't always stoic (Teagan knew from experience); he only cut the fun and games when it came to training or anything related to it, but the stress of picking out students was really getting to him because now Mr. Victor the frowny-face was there _all_ the time.

Maybe it was nerves; maybe it was because he was slightly obsessing over getting the perfect students, but whatever it was didn't look like it was going to leave any time soon, which is why Teagan decided to join Vicotr on his search for students on this particularly sunny Saturday in April. It was his first trip out since his "chat" (lecture, but Ian and Teagan were nice enough to not call it that so as not to hurt their friend's ego) with Sensei, and while he _might_ be willing to attempt to lower his standards, it never hurt to have someone come along to make sure he actually _did_ it.

Also, as said before, he had a tendency to scare people.

Think about it; if a lone, muscular, stoic, very imposing stranger walked up and asked you about _anything_ odds were you would try to end the conversation as soon as possible so you wouldn't end up dead in a ditch somewhere or something.

Not a very productive approach to anything.

However, if a muscular, stoic, very imposing stranger walked up with a cheerful, friendly, nice looking female you'd probably be a lot more welcoming to what they had to say (or to what the female had to say, as long as there were witnesses around). Victor didn't like it, said he could look on his own (like _that_ had been going so well) but in the end Ian and Teagan had prevailed, and here they were, at the racetrack, scoping out the talent.

It was the last town on their list, Blue Bay Harbor (the Academy was located in an area that was surrounded by four different towns, allowing them to have plenty of teenagers to choose from when selection time came) and Victor still needed five.

All factors were important when they where selecting students, but the make-it or break-it determinant was most definitely an affinity towards an element.

That couldn't be taught, either you had it or you didn't.

For the most part, individuals who already had a connection to an element acted out on their relationship subconsciously, participating in activities where they would have the most contact with their elements because they felt more comfortable with their surroundings.

It was a difficult thing to describe. Teagan had been a rock climber, and as much as she liked practicing on the walls in the gym she always felt more at peace when she was actually outside, in the thick of things. Her connection with the earth seemed laughably obvious whenever she was recruited, after it was explained to her, and she couldn't wait to pick out her final two students to spread the love.

For air students it was a little trickier. The earth was everywhere and just about anyone _could_ have a natural affinity towards it, but with air it was a completely different matter. Obviously you couldn't monitor people while they were skydiving (though Teagan wasn't even sure if sixteen-year-olds _could_ sky dive) and the same went for hang gliding, so the teachers had to get a little more resourceful when it came to scoping out wind-related activities. Air ninjas were thrill seekers, lived for soaring in the air (in all shapes and sizes) so for the most part (at least in modern society) they tended to participate in what was classified as extreme sports. Motocross, Parkour (also known as free running), BMX riding, and Skateboarding where the ones that Victor was on the prowl for (as Ian had all the water-related extreme sports covered).

So they had the right location, now all they had to do was find some future leader-students. Of course, they couldn't actually approach anyone until they found out if they met the _other_ qualifications.

Luckily, they had help on that particular front.

Cameron Watanabe (preferably known as Cam) was Sensei Kanoi's only child, and at sixteen he was somewhat of a prodigy or genius or whatever the word for it was. Basic fact, the kid was _way_ smart and knew a thing or two (or ten or a million) about computers. In his free time (when he wasn't trying to get himself enrolled in the Academy, or secretly training behind his father's back), he tinkered around with gadgets, one of which Teagan held in her hand.

It looked like a fancy PDA with a small camera on the back, but was a lot more effective; Cam had built it so it was linked to his main computer back at the Academy. All _they_ had to do was pick a prospective student, snap a clear picture of them and sit and wait. The picture would be run through the computer (which was hooked up to multiple networks that none of them bothered to ask was legal). If the kids had licenses their picture would be matched to their DMV photo (if not the computer went through yearbook pictures, though Teagan wasn't sure exactly _how_), and from there they had a name. From the name they got all kinds of things (also most likely illegally obtained, but they were ninjas and they were _supposed_ to live outside societal bounds) student records, medical records, their enrollment in extracurricular activities. They got teacher comments, councilor's notes (they couldn't get the dirty details but they would know if the student went to a psychologist), and if they had enrolled in karate or any other kind of self defense class.

Any kind of paper work generated by these kids, Cam would have, somehow in his magic little way.

It made picking people a lot easier now. It used to be they had to go the dojos to get the names of the students who were the right age and _then _they had to hunt them down and see if they had any connection to (insert element of choice here). Now, with just one snapshot they knew that Sally McFurgoson was a straight-A student who had had two cavities and loved playing basketball.

At the end of the day it was a much better process.

"What about him?" Teagan asked, pointing to a random rider after about twenty minutes of silent observation. The guy (or girl, she couldn't really tell with the helmet on) had been cranking out trick after trick, and more importantly, had been successfully landing them. If _that_ wasn't a thrill seeking air ninja she didn't know _what_ was.

Beside her, Victor grunted. "That's Jamie, and he's only fifteen."

_Nuts,_ Teagan thought, frowning slightly. She should have known better, Victor knew just about all the riders out here, and if he hadn't said anything about someone so talented (she was just going by comparison of other riders) then odds are he knew they didn't fit the requirements. Judging by the frown on his face, he _wished_ that Jamie kid was old enough. He was probably some straight-A kid student a black belt or something.

She'd have to take his picture later and find out.

"What about that guy?" she asked again, pointing to another rider decked out in green who seemed to be speeding through all the turns with ease. No fancy tricks for this guy/female/person, but the speed was definitely there, and by the looks of it they had been out long before the two teachers had started watching.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Victor shake his head.

"Raul. Good racer, but that's about the only thing he's interested in." Before she could argue, Victor added, "Terrible attitude."

She shut her mouth, frowned, and went back to watching. Was there anyone here Victor _might_ be willing to think about?

A flash of yellow caught Teagan's eye (she couldn't help it, it was her color) and she turned her attention to a different rider who was just getting onto the track. She liked him/her (because anyone who chose to wear yellow was okay in her book) and it became obvious that whoever they were really knew their stuff. They handled the bike well, no slip ups, and they even threw in a trick every once and a while.

"What about that one?" she pressed, silently rooting for her new favorite.

Victor couldn't say no to all of them.

His slight delay in answering let Teagan know that he wasn't as familiar with this one as he was with the others, giving her a small hope that her rider might have a fighting chance.

The answer came slowly with a slight hesitation. "…Dustin, I think. He keeps to himself mostly."

Not an immediate shoot down like the others, and now the new rider (Dustin) had Victor's undivided attention as well. Ten minutes later the yellow-clad teen pulled off the track, stopping off to the side to where his gear was; separate from the other track visitors. Between removing his helmet and taking a drink from his water bottle Teagan snapped off a picture of him (glad to finally get a chance to use the fancy PDA) and in about five seconds she was informed with everything she needed to know about Waldo "Dustin" Brooks.

Sixteen (thank goodness), not the greatest grades in the world but he wasn't failing. Aside from one cavity, a broken collarbone at eight and a broken arm at fourteen, he was in top physical condition.

So far everything was good, so she scrolled on, ignoring any of Victor's protests.

He had a driving permit but no car, a work permit (she could see now he hadn't come to the track alone, there was a small redhead talking to him (she had been chatting with some other riders earlier)), and…Cam's handheld informed Teagan he worked at some place called Storm Chargers (working, independent, athletic, so far still a go).

Okay, now they just needed to know if the guy could defend himself. Looked like…okay, two years of karate, about…5 years ago.

Actually, that wasn't too bad. He knew how to make a fist, but he hadn't been so ingrained in Karate that he wasn't willing to learn a new style.

He was _perfect_.

But Victor, as always, begged to differ.

"There are notes in his school records," he murmured stoically, pointing to a part of the screen Teagan hadn't been paying attention to. She tapped on it to expand the file and began sifting through several comments made by his Junior High and High School councilors.

It seemed that for the most part Waldo (preferably known as Dustin) had a naturally sunny and cheerful disposition and was enthusiastic in the subjects he was interested in. All one-on-one meetings he had with councilors revealed that he was a well-adjusted boy, imaginative, but their major concern (aside from a waning attention span, but let's face it, most kids had that nowadays) was his interaction with his peers. The trouble started in Junior High, according to the notes. Waldo (Dustin) had seemed to have a solid group of friends, but then halfway through the year he completely avoided all contact with his classmates, separating himself whenever it was possible. This behavior continued until the beginning of his freshman year in High School. It appeared he had found another group of friends (hopefully more favorable) but again, at the beginning of the second semester he went back into his forced seclusion, and this time he stayed that way.

"So he's a loner," Teagan scoffed, shrugging off Victor's concern. "Training at the Academy can fix that easy."

It had fixed it for Victor, but the air ninja remained unconvinced, so she smiled at him sweetly. "We should go talk to him."

The redhead was gone again, off consulting a clipboard by her van (sporting the logo Storm Chargers on the side, so there was the connection) and Dustin was still by his bike, making a few adjustments. Now was the perfect opportunity, and Teagan wasn't going to waste it because Victor was feeling hesitant. Before her friend could argue she started off in Dustin's direction, tucking the PDA away in her satchel.

Victor, predictably, followed closely behind her as a silent and threatening shadow.

He must have looked extra intimidating if the reaction on Dustin's face had been any indication, so Teagan put on an extra comforting smile to make up for it, making herself look as harmless as possible.

"Hi," she said cheerfully, stopping about two feet from the brunette so he wouldn't feel crowded. "I'm Teagan, it's my first time out here and I couldn't help but notice you really know how to handle your bike. How long have you been riding?"

She had used her nicest, most friendly voice (without being too overenthusiastic) but Dustin's response was still startled, and the kid looked around swiftly to make sure she was actually talking to him. When he realized she was; the surprise turned to confusion (not really the reaction she was expected, because he _had_ been riding well out there), but he _did_ answer her, or at least, he answered her feet, as he would not take his eyes off the ground.

"About a year," he mumbled, softly enough that she barely heard it over the sound of bikes. He didn't offer his name though, choosing instead to run a hand nervously through his hair, but he _did_ take his eyes off the ground long enough to get a glimpse of Victor before immediately curling back in on himself.

So…he was shy? Not really a loner, he just didn't seem to like strangers…or other people, really.

If he had been so cheerful and happy what happened to him that made him this way?

"I have to get back out there," he murmured, hands tense on his handle bars, and Teagan put a hand on his shoulder to stop him before she gave it much thought.

"Hey," she said gently, giving his arm a light squeeze. "I know you're busy now, but would like to meet me later? Maybe for lunch? My treat," she added, just to make sure he was hooked.

The confusion returned but he was looking at her face (progress), searching for signs of (what, insincerity?) something. She could see he wanted to ask why, why lunch, why would she even want to talk to him, but a quick look at Victor (frowning, no doubt) seemed to scare him into action, and he gave her a jerky nod.

"I'm done at two," he muttered, staring off to the side, watching the other riders. He bent down and snatched up his helmet, placing it on his head.

Her smile of encouragement might as well have been aimed at a wall, but she didn't let it bog her down.

"How about Tito's Pizzeria? 2:30?"

Another quick glance, this time at her, and he nodded. Then, before either of them could say goodbye, Dustin blasted off onto the track, ending the conversation.

"Why even bother with that guy?" Victor asked as they made their way back to their original viewing position. "He's a good rider, but he's clearly way too shy to be an air ninja. He couldn't lead."

Teagan rolled her eyes and gave her friend a slight smack on the back of the head. Like it or not, Dustin (as little as he had interacted with her) had wormed his way into her heart, and she wasn't just going to dump him because he was a little shy. The air teacher was right about one thing; Dustin wasn't leader material, but Teagan still had two slots to fill and air wasn't the only thing you got caught up in at the track. Especially if the rider's suits were any indication. This place was covered in mud and dirt, and all of the participants were down in the dirty, including Dustin.

"I think he might make a good earth ninja," she chirped, waving as Dustin rode by their spot (he probably didn't see it, but it was the thought that counted).

Victor didn't immediately disagree (which was his way of agreeing) so she smiled and started humming a catchy little tune she knew would get stuck in his head, annoying him within three minutes.

She loved Victor to death, but he really needed to get more students. Sensei had urged her to encourage the air ninja by any means necessary.

_Any_ means.

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The beach was a marvelous place to be.

It was bustling this Saturday; filled with families, teenagers, and sports enthusiasts of all sizes. Here, in the main hubbub of people mingling between the shifting sand and the indomitable ocean, had to be at least _one_ more prospective water student.

Ian had been scouring all day, inspecting each and every individual with great care. He had already covered all community, high school, heck, even _private_ pools for the swimmers/divers/water polo-ists that preferred the ways of chlorine, but so far he had only come up with one student.

_One._

And this was the last town.

That left him searching for just two prospects (still better than Victor, but then again that didn't seem hard to do nowadays) and he had to wade through the crowds of overweight, underage, and just plain obnoxious to find them. After an hour of this aggravation (the jerks playing beach volleyball were especially annoying) Ian was just about ready to give up and go and recruit two ducks to fill the spots. He could always argue they were born naturals to be water ninjas.

…Then again, the two teams that got stuck with them probably wouldn't be too happy.

So…back to the drawing board.

It took awhile for Ian to find a good spot for observation, all of the teenagers that were up for consideration were out on the waves so his stakeout area had to have a good view of not only their activities, but where their gear was so he could get pictures (if they were good enough to get to that part of the process).

Eventually the blond found a slightly rocky outcrop that wasn't too far away from the action (but still dangerous enough so that he could keep out of the reach of little children, it wasn't that he didn't like them, he just didn't need any more distractions). The water athletes were out in mass today, giving him plenty of talent to pick from. Their sports, for the most part, were variations of surfing. There were a couple body boarders (none of them very good), a few wind surfers (he had one or two in mind but he would have to wait for them to get closer to the shore to be really sure), a slew of regular surfers (all talented, it would seem), and even one kite surfer (but he was too far away for Ian to get a good look at him).

A surfer came back to shore, pawing through his bag for a water bottle and Ian snapped his picture.

John (preferably Johnny) Ramsey, 18.

_Nuts,_ Ian thought, deleting the files as soon as the age was discovered.

His following pictures resulted in the same depressing news.

Eric Malkovich, 15 (no good), Susan Kendrix (no contact with martial arts whatsoever, but she _had_ been a Girl Scout at one point), Kimball Dae (failing grades all across the board, impressively shattering all stereotypes), Terry Randolph (the guy had more detentions and office referrals than anyone Ian had ever seen).

The water ninja was about to give up and go check out another area of the beach (or maybe another beach entirely) when a girl decked out in blue caught his attention. She was just getting started, paddling out to meet her first wave, and he could tell from the moment she got on her board she was a natural. Riding the swell, balanced and one with her environment, he knew she _had_ to be one of his students.

You couldn't teach talent like that.

Her picture confirmed it when she swam back to shore. Victoria (Tori) Hanson, straight-A student, perfect attendance, hard and dedicated worker. Her health history showed nothing but a sprained ankle, she had a driving permit and a van (she was beside it now, toweling off), and up to about a year ago she had been taking Tae Kwan Do (something she probably dropped in favor of surfing and school).

Tori Hanson was the whole package, everything they were looking for.

…and _now_ came the very interesting, well-rehearsed but never easing-up-in-difficulty part where he had to stroll up, start making small talk, and somehow throw in that there was a secret ninja academy that really wanted her to enroll in their ranks. He would bring it up as a basic self defense class at first, try to get her hooked on that, and when she seemed to be comfortable enough around him he would amaze her with some basic water manipulation (he had brought several water bottles with him for such purposes).

If he was lucky he would get to demonstrating for her before she decided he was a crazy person and left.

Well, the faithful _were_ rewarded.

Taking a deep breath Ian steadied himself and hopped down from his perch, confidently made his way towards her, smile firmly planted on his face.

Tori was a water ninja, he could feel it in his bones.

He just needed to convince her.

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Having Teagan tag along for Victor's student search wouldn't have been nearly so annoying if it wasn't for her incessant humming. She was torturing him on purpose, they both knew it, and if he had the foresight to bring his iPod with him all this could have been easily avoided.

It is unfortunate then, that Victor had not.

_She_ might be able to take things easy; picking students out on random whims (based on their hairstyle, height, favorite color), but _he_ had to pick out the leaders, the students who would eventually be in charge of the teams, so he _had_ to make sure they not only filled all the schools requirements, but filled all of _his_. Sensei said Victor was being too hard on them (a fact Ian and Teagan had vigorously agreed with, the traitors), that "_While your concern should be merited, your understanding and patience must grow"._

Vicotr understood it, really he did. Not everyone was perfect and sometimes they just needed a calling to channel all their energy into in order for their real character to show, but he was still skeptical.

It was a big responsibility, and he couldn't just…_randomly_ pick whoever happened to be wearing red.

…even if he had a slight inclination to lean in their favor.

"How about that one?" Teagan said cheerfully from beside him. After his failure at the racetrack (and Teagan's slight success, though he wasn't sure how far she would get with that Dustin kid before she scared him off) they had relocated to another area filled with adrenaline junkies; aka, the Skate Park.

It was busy this Saturday (as everywhere else had been), and Victor was hoping (in vain, but still hoping) that maybe, just _maybe_ he would at least find _one_ guy (or girl, Teagan had insisted, though they were much harder to find on a skateboard or moto bike) to be an air student.

"No Teagan," he sighed quietly, shaking his head to emphasize his point. It was a joke (he was assuming), because "look at me" goth kid was _not_ going to be one of his students. He didn't care if he wasn't supposed to judge books by their covers; sometimes what they displayed to the world was a warning not to peak inside. Victor could take a hint.

Teagan could not.

"Rats," she muttered, huffing to herself. "He's too young."

_Thank goodness for that._

Vicotr wasn't sure how that conversation would have started.

As a gesture of good faith he gave the park another look over, taking his eyes off of goth kid to find…_there._

There, dressed in a red sweatshirt, posed above a vert ramp was a tall, dark-skinned teen, exuding an air of confidence (no ego, thankfully, merely self assurance, which was something Victor could get behind).

He'd read somewhere that people physically judged leaders by their height. Children often decided that the tallest person in a group was a leader because they were the biggest and therefore (he assumed was their thought process) the strongest. Victor knew well enough by now that it took a lot more than a few extra inches to make a leader, but this guy (Shane, the PDA read after he snagged it from Teagan), really _looked_ like he could lead.

He had an easy going presence around him, and with proper training, could probably excel in taking care of a team.

Teagan joked beside him; poking at his side for jumping the gun on a guy dressed in red, but she took her words back a moment later (Victor already knew he was going to be a good skater, God couldn't possibly be mean enough to give him the rest of the package without that), and for the first time that day a real smile lit up the air teacher's face.

Shane Clarke, A-B student, 16 years old. He'd been riding in competitions since he was twelve, broke his leg when he was thirteen, and took a year of judo not too long ago (decided it wasn't his thing, Victor bet), and according to his school records he was an average student behavioral wise. No acting up; simply friendly, good with his peers, and charismatic.

This was the guy. This was guy number six. He had to be.

Now all Victor had to do was shake off the somberness that had cast itself over him and manhandle that kid into the Academy. He wouldn't take no for an answer, Shane _had _to join.

And he wasn't going to put out lunch to make it happen.

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><p>Endnotes:<p>

Teagan is pronounced Tay-gan (not tee-gan, as it may read)

A big thanks to JDTB90, and Rogue Ranger for your lovely reviews! To be honest, Any Moment will probably always come first (by way of updating), but I'm going to do my best to make sure this story is just as good.

Next chapter we'll actually get to Dustin, Shane's, and Tori's point of view.

Also, the chapter titles for this particular story are from the PR 100 Themes challenge. Even if that's technically for livejournal. Whatever, expanding boundaries :)

Until next time.


	3. Misunderstanding

Chapter 3

Misunderstanding

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><p>Dustin wasn't the smartest guy on the planet.<p>

It wasn't a fact he was very proud of, but you could only go on for _so_ long pretending something wasn't true before everyone else decided that enough was enough and decided to remind you of it with all of their remaining time and energy. Except they didn't; because that would be mean, so they wouldn't come out and just _say_ it, instead they would just…take _advantage_ of it, therefore reminding him, and leave him as the odd man out and the butt of some joke he hadn't been smart enough to catch on to.

Dustin wasn't the smartest guy in the world, but he was smart enough to figure out that other people (with the exception of Kelly, but she didn't count because she was awesome so her exception-ness was inferred) were mean; or at least, something about Dustin made their mean come out, like he was some kind of unpleasant anger magnet thing. Because of this, he had made himself a few very simple rules.

Following these rules, so far, had led him to great happiness.

Rule number one, don't talk to other people.

Don't talk to other people _ever…_ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, _ever,_ _ever_, **_ever_****. **

Sometimes it was unavoidable; like, what if someone's arm just _happened_ to catch on fire and they didn't notice? Then, and only then (and in then-like situations) was informing them of their to-be arm injury allowed because hey, that was just common courtesy. If someone's on was fire, you told them, end of story.

Adults also had to be talked to. In fact, anyone who seemed senior to you in any way should probably be responded to whenever they asked you a question/said hello (Dustin preferred the hellos; the response was easy and impersonal and very hard to get wrong).

It wasn't a rule Dustin particularly liked, but it was necessary, and as long as he didn't give too honest an answer (it was difficult sometimes because his mouth/brain filter thing didn't work all that well) he was usually okay.

When confused, it was best to give the shortest most concise answer you could think of. Heck, give whatever answer they wanted to hear, it didn't even matter if it was true or not. Whatever you needed to say to have them leave the conversation happy and forget about you, say it, and then everything would be good (and Dustin would be happy with the leaving-alone part, not the lying, the lying made him feel dirty on the inside, like a layer of evil gook was seeping all around his stomach and it just laid there plotting its evil plans).

The next rule was simple; keep to yourself.

This was a lot like rule number one, but enough time had passed for Dustin to decide it as a necessary, distinct difference.

See, rule number one implied you went about your normal activities but on like, mute. Rule number two encouraged you to cut down your activities to only the essentials like school (very much mandatory, though Dustin really, _really _hated it) and work (which included motocross because Dustin needed that like he needed breathing and without it he really would just be a hermit who hurled sticks at passing cars from his bedroom window). All other teenage-boy like activities were out. Not that the brunette really knew what those were, and any time he tried to Google it he found less-than-awesome results that made him scrub at his eyes and had him awkwardly avoiding his computer for days on end. Flirting with girls was a no-no because A) girls were mean, B) just thinking about talking to them made his head hurt and his stomach tie up in knots, and C) girls were mean, and Dustin had only dipped his toe into that pool of awfulness and he had learned his lesson, thank you very much (unlike his supposed old "friends", the girls hadn't been too "nice" to tell him he was _oh_-so, not-so, bright).

He ate lunches alone in deserted places (the cafeteria was loud anyway, and the smells usually made him nauseous) and Dustin made sure he was _just_ good enough at all his classes that he wouldn't require tutoring. If talking to one person for three seconds was bad, talking with one girl (because they were _always_ girls) for two hours, and _paying_ her for it was infinity-times worse. He had also managed to get good enough at bike mechanics so that that was all he had to do in the shop.

His old friends haunted Storm Chargers sometimes; it was stupid to think it was just to bother him because they were active guys too. Still, every once and a while Dustin's smart streak would run out and he would look up and catch one of their eyes, and this weird, not-nice but he couldn't describe it look would be on their face and he would bury himself into his work again. The look always stuck with him though, hours after they were gone, strong enough to make him want to punch something out of frustration for not being smart enough to describe what it meant.

Kelly never mentioned his increased productivity on the days they visited, but he wasn't sure if she noticed or not.

He wasn't sure if he wanted her to.

This all led to rule number three, which was the most important rule of them all.

Don't think about it.

The "it" was general; "it" could be anything. Anything that really bothered him; his old friends, his mom and dad's divorce, a homework problem, a trick he couldn't master, anything that hacked at his insides even a _little_ bit were never to be thought about.

Only superficial problems, the here-and-now issues, were allowed to be thought about.

Life got a lot easier after Dustin established that rule. He used to think about those things all the time, what he did wrong, what did he have to fix about himself to make it go away, but after awhile…after he _didn't_ think about how many years of heartbreak and self-hate and inside badness and guilt weighing him down, he realized two things.

They were one; that there were some things he couldn't control, and two, obviously the things he could control, he wasn't smart enough to fix.

Dustin had actually made the third rule first, but the other two helped so much at…protecting him, he had to put them in the front of the line.. After all, he never had any worry about forgetting the third rule anyway, because it was part of him. It was like; in his body, like blood or something, like its own organ, trying to keep him from getting hurt or hurting other people (but he was honest enough to say that he put himself first, because it was more than obvious that other people weren't going to).

It was a lonely way to go about things, but it was way better than the alternative, and so far following his three rules had kept him relatively safe as he'd gone through life.

So breaking these rules, even a little bit, may or may not be the reason Dustin was currently freaking out in the back of Kelly's van.

He had no idea, _no idea_, why that pretty girl-lady (Teagan, right?) had spoken to him, or wanted to _continue _speaking with him. In all honesty he hadn't wanted to find out, but she was senior so he had to at least answer her questions and then tall-dark-and brooding had been all tall-dark-and brooding behind her staring Dustin down until he agreed to whatever torture she had planned for him.

The pizza was a trap, he knew it.

Normally pizza made him happy, because it was _pizza_, and it was impossible to _not_ be in love with pizza because it was all saucy and cheesy and pepperoni-y, and if you got really lucky and got it from the right place at the right time in the right mood and the stars aligned themselves _just_ right the pizza-makers would add like, spray on butter to the crust (which was terrible for you and he could just imagine his arteries going all kamikaze but he didn't care it was just _that_ good) and then they would give you a garlic dipping sauce that was pretty much pure majesty in a tiny cup of awesome that was so wonderful it broke his heart every time the container got empty.

Pizza itself was awesome.

Pizza plus stranger lady who surely wanted to bring doom and unhappiness down on him, was _not_.

Even if she offered to treat.

The treat was a trap (Dustin was going to bring money anyway just in case she changed her mind or ran out on him or didn't show (he was hoping for that third one _a lot_)) and he was still running their conversation over and over in his head to see what he did wrong. He tried to end it as soon as he could, maybe he should have stayed and talked to her then or something, but then tall-dark-angry guy would have been there glaring at Dustin like the brunette was stealing his breathing air and trying to kill him with his mind.

…what if tall-dark would be at the pizza place too?

Dustin _tried_ really hard to convince himself not to go; because it was breaking _all_ of his rules (the whole afternoon become an "it" he shouldn't have to think about) and the rules were there for a reason, but he knew he couldn't be a rude jerkface like his old friends had been. He knew he couldn't stand pretty-lady up even if her intents were unknown and most likely harmful.

What if his old friends had like, paid her chat him up and then sneak attack him when he was least expecting it somehow, and then they would all pop up out of nowhere and laugh at him.

…okay, maybe Dustin was a little paranoid, his old friends didn't really go out of their way to bother him anymore, but they _did_ rag on him when the opportunity arose.

Was this another one of those times?

Dustin ran a hand through his sweaty hair, using the other to steady his bike as Kelly drove over another bump in the road. It wasn't necessary, but he riffled through his bag on an impulse, whipping out his cell phone to check the time for what had to have been the twelfth time that car ride.

Forty minutes in-counting, on account that they had quit the track a little early (Kelly having insisted on it because he was so off his groove he might as well have been trying to knit and ride at the same time), which meant forty more minutes of completely freaking out.

Well, that wasn't fair; he would probably be freaking out once he got to Tito's too. So it was more like forty _plus_ however long pretty-lady-decided-to-drag-their-meeting-on-for amount of freaking out he had left to do.

And then for good measure he would probably freak out once he got home.

Just to make sure he had all his bases covered.

Dustin took little steps, in his mind, trying to bring himself just a little bit of comfort. First they'd get back to Storm Chargers; then he'd stow away his bike and his gear and then he'd run home, shower, freak out, go to Tito's, freak out some more, pray Teagan didn't show up, freak out when she _did_ show up, and after that the afternoon was pretty much a mystery.

…well, it was a good thing he had a well-balanced breakfast that morning.

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Tito's was just as hopping as it normally was when Dustin got there, a few minutes early despite his depressing attempts at stalling himself. He had spent at least five minutes chasing ducks around the pond and had even stopped to read every poster he saw along the way, whether he actually cared about there content or not. A chill ran through his body as he entered his usually-favorite, but now not-so-favorite place-of-pizza that had nothing to do with his damp hair. Timidly, he looked around the restaurant, praying for a miracle.

None came his way though as across the room; away from the hustle and bustle of waiters, food, teenagers, and witnesses, was Teagan, sitting happily at the back booth, away from prying eyes. She waved him over; having caught sight of him as soon as he entered. He hesitantly made his way toward her, ducking around seats and people quietly, making sure to keep his arms to himself.

Head down, he slid into the booth, meeting her eyes briefly before staring back down at the table top.

He had never noticed it before, but they were pretty nice tables. Like, not the cheap plastic-y kind you found in most places; this was hard core polished plastic, a nice step up, going for a medium level of fancy without being too hoity-toity for a pizza place.

A good choice.

Teagan made the first move, waiting until after they ordered drinks (but that only mildly trapped Dustin, it wasn't until it got to pizza time when it would be past the point of no return).

"Hi," she chirped, smiling brightly (he had looked up to be polite, but could only maintain eye contact for so long before he had to go back to studying the table).

This one he knew the response to.

"Hi," he mumbled in return, fidgeting with his sleeve nervously.

How long was it going to take for this to be over? The minutes were already dragging on way too long, and with all the easy conversation out of the way Dustin was left with nothing but uncertainty. He could feel Teagan's gaze boring into the top of his head, looking for what, he didn't know, and he twisted his fingers in the material, trying to stop his nervous twitching.

Across the table, Teagan chirped on. "Victor-" she began, pausing when Dustin threw her a confused look that made her realize he had no idea who she was talking about. She smiled at the eye contact but he quickly corrected himself, turning his eyes down.

She tried again. "The guy I was with earlier-" She must have meant tall, dark, and angry. "-said your name was Dustin."

He gave a jerked nod to let her know she was right – or that Victor the angry-beast was right - and shifted his hands into his lap. He didn't want her to see how badly he was wringing them, though he was surprised he hadn't heard any knuckles crack by now.

"So," she started again, still talking to the top of his head. "How'd you start riding?"

It was a long story, but she wasn't really interested in it, didn't sound like it, so he kept to his rules, keeping it short and sweet.

"Kelly," he mumbled, tapping his toes nervously against the checkered linoleum. "The lady I work for."

It was gamble, but he snuck a peak at Teagan after he answered to get a feel for what she really wanted. Her response was…_huh_; a smile, growing across her face, eyes lit up with legit happiness (the eyes were hard to fake, and he trusted his gut when it came to this kind of thing) before turning his attention to the waiter as he dropped off their sodas.

Oh...so, it was one of _those_ meetings.

To be honest Dustin wasn't sure if he felt any better about the situation at all, for _this_, was a pity party. She had to be one of those popular do-gooders who just _had_ to know everybody, and when they found someone who didn't fit their take on the world they just _had_ to befriend them.

Case in point, Dustin didn't like to talk, Dustin had talked slightly more to clarify, therefore she was happy and felt like she was "helping" him.

To her he was just a sad, lonely, damaged soul she needed to take in and fix.

Sadly this wasn't the first time this kind of thing had happened to Dustin. This seemed to be his female peers (and apparently late teen females) favorite kind of activity. It was straight out of a movie. They found a "nerd"; fixed him, helped him, dressed him up, tried to dig deep into what made him tick, except when they finally got him to talk they figured out the same things his old friends figured out and realized there was nothing there, or what was there bites, and they threw him back into the wind, moving on with their lives as though they _hadn't_ just taken out a huge chunk of someone's soul and tossed it aside like it was two-week-old garbage.

Dustin had fallen for this trick once, when he was younger and more hopeful and thought that his first group of friends might have been a freak accident, a fluke.

Surely, surely it couldn't happen twice. The lightning that devastated his life the first time couldn't bring him down again, could it?

But life wasn't nice and it wasn't easy, and it really, _really_ didn't like Dustin, so when his makeover had successfully ended and the girls he had _thought_ were helping had reintegrated him into a new set of friends he started talking (because silly him, he thought that was what you _did_ when you have friends) and the whole abuse process that had happened last time started over again, and he was _just_ as slow at figuring it out.

Pity pizza and conversations were worse than angry pizza and conversations because at least in insult, guilt, angry conversations the other people were _honest_ about how little you mattered to them.

It was strange to think that in pity conversations the amount of lying was actually significantly higher.

Heartache; dull, hollow in his chest began to eat at him, spreading a numbness that usually led to depression (if it wasn't already there). Usually when this kind of thing happened Dustin would just bury himself in work or video games or random doodling with headphones on and the music blasting so loud he _couldn't _think, anything at all so he wouldn't have to relive those memories, to relive that shame. Leaving now would be best idea, the pizza didn't even matter anymore, Dustin wasn't hungry. Any enthusiasm he might have had for pizza or pizza-related items had evaporated with Teagan's beaming smile. The only thing he wanted to do now was go home and curl up under his pillow fort, TV on in the background to fill the silence until he fell asleep.

He could fake a stomach ache (he'd had lots of practice at it) but that would leave her with the idea that rescheduling was an option. That left him with either bolting or telling her to take her crazy, well meaning ideas and shove it. The second option was more of a dream than a real choice. Speaking his mind was something he stopped doing a long time ago and insults were practically fictional to him.

A hand slid into his view; tapping against the table, and he realized with a start that Teagan was trying to get his attention, eyebrows furrowed in concern. He shook his head frantically, seeing the opportunity for what it was and he whipped out his wallet quickly, throwing a few bills onto the table to cover his drink. He mumbled something along the lines of _"I've gotta go"_ and was out of the booth and halfway across the restaurant in record speed, weaving through people and tables like his life depended on it. Teagan called something out behind him but he didn't look back. He doubted she would actually chase him but he wasn't going to risk it, and he was out the door, pounding the pavement before he could really give it any thought.

He gave it four blocks before he slowed down, and only then did he cautiously look over his shoulder, relieved to find that the Nancy do-gooder was gone, and he really was alone.

Shaking his head sadly, he resumed a slight jog, pushing hard until he got home. Home was safe, she didn't know where home was and after today he wouldn't be her problem, and she wouldn't be his.

There was nothing left for them to talk about.

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Teagan had been frozen in surprise; stunned by how quickly everything had gone downhill _(she hadn't even said anything wrong; did this guy have something against smiles?), _and even more bewildered by the swiftness of his retreat. No question about it, Dustin certainly had the speed and agility to be a ninja, now all she had to do was get him to _talk_ to her.

She was beginning to think that task might be slightly more difficult to do than she had previously assumed.

Across the room from where they had been observing the meeting, Victor and Ian picked up their barely touched beverages and made their way towards her, compelling the earth teacher to slide back into the booth she had just vacated and taking their seats, Ian beside her, Victor across.

With a small huff she pulled her drink in front of her, fiddling with the straw. "You'll confuse your waiter."

Ian gestured absently with his hand, slumping easily against the back of his seat. "I'm sure he'll survive."

He briefly gave her a small smile of encouragement, but Victor was still all business and couldn't be bothered by small talk, so he brusquely started, "That went terribly."

She could tell by his slight glare that she hadn't been the only one to roll her eyes at his comment and despite her failure she smiled, nudging Ian playfully. The blond sighed dramatically and flicked a rolled up straw wrapper in Victor's direction, who swept it away irritably.

"I'm not sure what I did wrong," she admitted after the air ninja had given Ian the sufficient amount of glaring required for his offense.

"You picked Dustin," Victor supplied, inspiring Ian to glare (no student was left behind in his book) and Teagan forced herself to butt in before things got messy.

"It's not just that he's shy, it's…I don't think he trusts girls."

Her comment was met with an _"oh, really?"_ look from Victor, and she retaliated by kicking his shins swiftly.

Childish, but effective.

The glare returned.

"I don't think he trusts anyone," Victor replied, holding his hand up for silence as Ian began to protest. "I asked around the track and it's not just me who barely knows this guy, _nobody_ knows him. He doesn't talk to any of them, not even about racing."

"Because that's _so_ fascinating," Ian mumbled into his drink, ignoring the sour look Victor threw at him.

"He works in a store, he _has_ to talk to people sometime," Teagan insisted, ignoring her friends staring contest.

"I asked about that too," Victor murmured, not missing beat. "He's a mechanic, works in the back."

_So that's a nix on the talking._

"Just move on and find another guy," the air teacher continued, not bothered by the faces Ian had been making to distract him.

"No!" she urged, smacking her hand against the table, getting both of their attentions. "Dustin needs this more then any of our other students. I'm not abandoning him just because…" she trailed off, searching for the right words.

Victor attempted to supply them for her, "Just because he's difficult?"

Ian joined her in kicking Victor's shins this time.

The darker teen glared at them before pulling his legs up, shifting his sitting position to Indian style.

Before he could argue, Ian interrupted, strumming his fingers against the table thoughtfully. "Maybe we should get someone else to talk to him," he held up his hand to cut Victor off, returning the gesture from earlier. "Someone who doesn't intimidate him."

Teagan tilted her head in thought. "Like…one of his peers?" she offered cautiously, looking between Ian and Victor for their reactions. Surprisingly both of them looked like they approved of the idea.

"But who?" Ian asked, turning to face her. "Do we get one of the other students or-"

"I've got just the guy," Victor interrupted, unreadable expression on his face. Before either she or Ian could say anything he was standing up from the table, throwing a few bills down to cover his drink, just as Dustin had earlier, and walking away, hands shoved in his pockets.

Surprised for the second time that day (because about five seconds ago Victor had been incredibly against all things Dustin) Teagan just stared at the empty place where her friend used to be while Ian gazed at the air ninja's retreating back, hand up in question. He turned back to her when it became apparent Victor wasn't coming back.

"Did he find a new student?"

Teagan nodded dumbly, pulling out a few dollar bills of her own and shoving them into a pile next to Dustin's.

The light pats Ian gave her did little to lessen her unease. "So he's just going to stick him on your kid, even if they don't know each other?"

She nodded again, marveling at stupidity of it all.

There was a slight pause, and then Ian prompted, "Do you think we should go after him?"

The earth ninja widened her eyes and gave him an incredulous look. "Do you really think we could stop him now that his mind's set on it?"

The pause Ian gave wasn't him actually thinking about it, it was merely to give the appearance that he was thinking about it, because they both knew the answer.

"So…" he started, after the designated moment had passed. "We should spy on them for damage control?"

Teagan rolled her eyes and waved her waiter over (who had luckily also been Ian and Victor's waiter) and asked him for their checks.

When the server left she made a face at Ian. "Do you really have to ask?"

He laughed in response and ruffled her hair lightly, handing her a few bills of his own to cover his drink.

No, pizza would not be on the menu tonight.

Instead they had to hunt down Victor and…not stop, but _guide_ him away from doing something stupid.

They had to at least _try_ and give Dustin some time to breathe before they stuck someone else on him.

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><p>Endnotes:<p>

My apologies for the delay! It's finals time at school and most of them are comprehensive, and on top of that I've got presentations and stuff like that I have to finish up, so my next update (for either story) will be sporadic at best.

Sorry y'all.

That being said, I would like to thank DV2 and Rogue Ranger for their reviews, I will attempt to keep providing you guys with enjoyable reading material and I appreciate the fact that you return the favor.

So we get Dustin's POV this chapter, next will be Shane and Tori, and at some point, hopefully we'll get our first run in with Dustin and Shane soon. We'll just have to see.

Until next time.


	4. Peanut Butter

Chapter 4

Peanut butter

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><p>He didn't want to risk jinxing it by thinking about it, but so far Shane had been having a pretty good day. No, scratch that, he had been having a pretty <em>awesome<em> day. Granted, most Saturdays were awesome simply on principal, no school meant no work (or what work there was could be pushed off to Sunday) and no _actual_ job (much to his parents' protests) meant plenty of free time to do the one thing he loved doing more than anything else; catching major air at the Skate park.

The experience was only slightly enhanced by his parent's immense disapproval of the sport.

Yep…nothing like a little rebellion to increase leisure time pleasurably.

On top of being where he loved to be, doing what he loved to do, on a day that he loved in so many ways, Shane had managed to finally land (with great effort) a Backside 180 heel flip, something he had been working on for almost a month, and could now happily rub it into Lou's face (the only friend/rival at the park that was at his same skill level, as they had started around the same time). It would be a short-lived triumph (now that he had landed it, it would only be a matter of time before Lou got on the ball too) but Shane would take what he could get.

All and all, it had been a good day.

He had been in the middle of deciding whether he should call it quits and leave while he was still on top or stay and press his luck when a familiar figure slid into his peripheral vision, momentarily startling him at his sudden appearance.

Victor _(as if Shane could forget the guy),_remained as stoic and unbothered as ever, acting as though he had been beside Shane the entire time, casting an eye over the other skateboarders in what the younger teen could only guess was mild contempt. Victor was a mystery (Shane had only met him earlier that afternoon), but something told the skater that even if he talked to the older teen for hours on end he would still end up with more questions than answers. The older teen was simply an enigma, slinking around like some sort of casual dress Batman, never being noticed by others until he allowed them to. It was a quality that would deter most people, but to Shane it only made him more awesome, and therefore a guy to be listened to.

Even if he sort of gave the impression he was a jerk.

The older teen broke the silence abruptly. "I need your help."

It wasn't so much as shock as it was _"I just met you like two hours ago and I barely know you"_ that crossed Shane's face after the comment, and Victor, being as unmoved as he always seemed to be took his look as some form of consent and elaborated. "There's another student."

Shane connected the dots as best he could from what was presented to him and gave a soft laugh, rubbing the back of his neck lightly. "What?" he asked, smiling cheekily at his almost-acquaintance. "They're resisting your vast amounts of charm?"

The look the other teen gave informed him that he would be allowed that barb but shouldn't press his luck for any others (a familiar look, as Shane had given it many times himself), and the skater backed down slightly, looking down at his shoes in a new sudden fascination.

Victor continued as though Shane hadn't said anything.

"Not one of mine," he explained, eyes constantly in motion, observing everything around them.

Shane gave him an exasperated look before giving up and joining the older teen in watching the other skaters. "And you want me to…"

"Talk to him," Victor supplied, obviously waiting Shane him to take the initiative in the conversation (everything was a test to this guy, or something, at any rate Shane was willing to buy into his classes just so he could figure out what made him tick).

In a way it was mildly relieving. Shane hadn't been home yet so he hadn't been able to research the Wind Academy like he had wanted to, but if there actually _were_ other students the odds of this place being a scam were significantly small. Sure they had an official looking pamphlet, but Shane would like to think he wasn't incredibly thoughtless (despite what his parents might suggest).

"He's intimidated by us," the older teen elaborated, unaware of Shane's mental detour, pulling out a familiar looking booklet (one of which he had given Shane earlier) from his backpack and handing it over for the skater. Victor moved to zip up the bag completely but paused, hand hovering over the zipper, and Shane watched with great fascination and he shoved his arm back in and routed around for a second time, this time acquiring a more surprising item. He shoved it into Shane's hands on top of the pamphlet, then shut and re-shouldered his bag as though nothing had happened.

Blinking in confusion, the younger teen stared at the object as though it would attack him.

Unsurprisingly, the jar of peanut butter continued to do nothing.

When it became obvious Victor wasn't going to explain, Shane gave in and asked, "You want me to give him peanut butter?"

Victor gave a swift shake of the head. "The peanut butter's for you," he elaborated, motioning to it briefly as though Shane could possibly be confused by what he was talking about.

"Incentive," the older teen finished, turning to look at him.

Well…

…_maybe_-

…no. No, Shane didn't get it.

The idea boggled the younger teen's mind. But then again, considering the first run-in that he had with Victor, it really shouldn't be all that surprising.

Now _that__ would be a hard conversation to forget._

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_It had only been _**_slightly_**_ frustrating, blowing the same move eight times in a row, and the poorly muted laughter coming from Lou's direction was more than enough encouragement for Shane to take a water break. Maybe he needed a few minutes to clear his mind before going back at it. He almost had the backside 180 heel flip down he just…needed to try it a few more times, that was all._ _He was determined to get it landed today._

_He was in the middle of taking a swig of water when Shane caught sight of a guy (tall, tan, vaguely Asian (maybe Pilipino?)) coming towards him, about fifteen feet away. The strange, almost predatory stare he had locked on the skater gave Shane the feeling he was some kind of recruiter. _

_Or a psychopath._

_But with this many people around in the broad daylight, it was more likely he was a recruiter._

_As exciting as it was (the feeling strong enough to shake away the mild reaction of fear the recruiter's cold look was giving Shane), and as justified as it might be (he _**_was_**_ pretty awesome), Shane couldn't help but be confused, because for the past hour he had done nothing but eat concrete. Unless this guy saw some hidden potential in that (maybe he was looking for stunt doubles or something, it was California after all) Shane didn't know why he would want to talk to him._

_It took Shane a few seconds longer to notice the girl (lady, teen, whatever, (he found it best not to guess a woman's ages _**_ever_**_)) who was tagging along behind the recruiter, who smiled and waved enthusiastically once she noticed Shane's attention. Before he could respond with a wave of his own the recruiter turned sharply, stopping so abrupt that the happy lady in yellow __**should**__ have crashed into him, but she seemed to be expecting it some way and stopped just in time, smiling at her companion brightly. They had a short conversation that grew more heated as it continued, but in the end the male recruiter won (he guessed) and advanced towards Shane alone, leaving his companion pouting at his back before retreating back to…wherever they had come from. Shane didn't have time to pay attention to that, as the recruiter was on him in less than three seconds._

_What followed was one of the strangest interviews (and calling it that was rather generous on his part) of Shane's life._

_The recruiter started, giving Shane a slight nod. "Hey." _

"_Hi," Shane returned, attempting to give the impression that he knew what this was all about so they could cut the small talk and get to the meat of things._

_Whether he caught on to Shane's inflection or was simply tired of exchanging pleasantries (later Shane would realize that he was _**_always_**_ this abrupt) the recruiter moved on, neither offering his hand or his name. "This all you do?" he asked, motioning to his skateboard in a manner that was almost bored._

_It wasn't a tone Shane particularly liked, but he decided he would give this guy at least one strike before calling it quits. "This and school," he replied casually, spinning his board vertically with his hand._

"_Besides that," the recruiter said, unimpressed by the movement.. _

_That reaction, plus the general feeling of displeasure he radiated from being in the Skate Park, struck a sore point in Shane. It was enough to make him decide it was high time to end this conversation and try to make the most of his Saturday. He didn't know what this guy wanted, and at this point he didn't care._

_Plan in mind, he shoved his water bottle into his backpack and picked up his board, keeping his eyes off the recruiter in need of improved social skills. "I gotta go-"_

_The guy was either persistent, couldn't take a hint, or both, and he carried on the conversation anyway, asking him abruptly, "Is this all you're going to do during the summer?"_

_Seriously, i__f this was going to turn into another one of those, 'But you can do so much __**more**__ with your life' conversations Shane was going to leave the Skate Park altogether, Saturday be damned. _

"_That was the plan," he snipped brashly, mimicking the recruiter's attitude and not caring if he offended him._

_He didn't, by the look of it; and the recruiter's face remained unchanged._

_ Finally, much to Shane's relief he got to the point of the conversation. "I have an offer." _

"_For skateboarding?" Shane asked, though he had a feeling this supposed offer had very little to do with the sport. _

_His guess was confirmed with a quick head shake. "No," the other teen said, and before Shane could cut in and tell him to get lost he continued. "You'll like it, though."_

_It was against his better judgment that Shane stayed, sighing, and asked the question he'd been dying to ask since the recruiter showed up. "What is it?"_

_What was he trying to sell (very badly Shane might add)? _

_What could he __**possibly**__ want with Shane that had nothing to do with skateboarding?_

_If it was modeling Shane would never be able to live it down (not that he thought he was that good looking, but all the so-called "models" he had seen in magazines had always looked a little wonky to him anyway, at least the guys, so what the heck did he know?)._

_The recruiter relieved Shane's worries a few seconds later. _

_"Self defense class," he explained, pulling a pamphlet out of his backpack. "Wind Academy," he thrust it in Shane's direction, look in his eyes demanding the other teen take it. "It's free." _

_Shane eyed it warily, refusing to take it out of the recruiter's hand._ _Sure it was free…about as free as any other scam was. Shane had an idea of how it would work, the classes would be free but the gear would be like, eight hundred dollars or something, and by the end of it his parents would wind up spending so much money that they might as well of hired a private instructor._

_Disappointed with the waste of time, Shane turned to leave, ending their little "chat" before the recruiter could draw him in again. "Not interested, did that once-" _

_The comment that interrupted followed the previous pattern of their conversation; it was both surprising, disconnected with what they were actually talking about, and ridiculously abrupt._

_It was also, if Shane thought back on it, mildly flattering._

_But that was only after the shock wore off._

"_I need leaders," Victor announced halfway through his rejection, so strongly that Shane had to change his theory from money scam to military prep-school scam. _

_Was that even legal? Tricking kids into free classes and prepping them to enlist?_

_Unethical maybe, but not illegal._

_The recruiter, for once, decided to explain this one without prompting. "There are three teachers, I'm one of them," he explained, motioning briefly off in the distance to where his yello- dressed acquaintance was sitting, watching them intently. _

"_We each pick our own students," he continued, ignoring her wave when she caught sight of them looking in her direction. "After a few weeks of training we combine the students into teams."_

_A normal person would have gotten to the point by now, but the recruiter paused for what Shane assumed was dramatic effect, waiting for the…gravity of his words to sink in. When he decided his pause was sufficient he forged on, finishing with no particular panache, "I pick who will lead those teams."_

_Were Shane being_ _honest, at this point he wasn't really sure what to think. It didn't sound like a military thing, or any kind of self defense he had ever heard about, and if it really was a scam for money wouldn't they try to make their recruiters look a little more…expensive? Or were they going for an average Joe, everyman kind of feel to make the…recruitees feel more at ease?_

_And if he was looking for leaders, shouldn't he actually watch people you know, lead?_

_With multiple questions buzzing in his head, Shane asked the first one that came to mind, even though he was pretty sure by this point he wasn't going to get a straight answer. "What kind of martial arts are you teaching?"_

_For the first time since their conversation started the recruiter broke his poker face with a small smile, and if it were a movie Shane would say there was a glint in his eye. "Nothing you've ever seen before."_

_Shane replied before he could think about it, giving a smirk of his own. "That why it's free?"_

_It was a standoff, the recruiter holding his gaze steady, hands in his pockets and a look of…something, Shane couldn't quite place it, flashed through his eyes so fast that the skater almost missed it._

_The stare down ended with a barely perceivable nod from the recruiter. "Yes."_

_Grudgingly, and despite common sense telling him this guy was a total whack job, Shane took the proffered pamphlet from his hand and began reading it skeptically aloud._

_"The Wind Academy. Spend the summer learning how to defend yourself against future foes."_

_He laughed, flipping open the pamphlet to look over glossy pictures of teens his age doing various things, all in some kind of uniform. One of a boy kicking, another of what looked like group meditation, and another of two students sparring. "Sounds like something out of a video game," he joked, pointing to the slogan at the front of the pamphlet._

_The recruiter shrugged noncommittally, but Shane could tell that he agreed with him on that point._

_Smart guy, not biting the hand that feeds him in front of…_

_What was he anyway, fresh meat? A target? Another head to fill his quota?_

_Did he actually want him based on whatever he saw at the Skate Park?_

_Curiosity made him glance back to the other teacher who seemed to be staring very intently at another skater, the side of her hand pressed into her mouth as though she were in deep thought._

_Maybe this was how they recruited people, by just…watching them and…what, seeing if they were physically fit?_

_Maybe there was more to it, like, they were trained to…what was it they do on those crime TV shows?_

_Profile?_

_Yeah, maybe they could profile a person just by watching them…skate, for a while._

_It made sense in a way, even if Shane had failed to land his Backside 180 heel flip he hadn't given up. He was still working at it despite all his failures._ _Maybe that was what the guy saw._

"_You'll still have time to board," the recruiter promised, mistaking the inspection of his colleague as a worried glance at what he could be giving up. _

_Still, it was helpful information. It was nice to know Shane wouldn't have to completely give up what he loved doing just to take part in these classes._

_Wait…was he actually thinking about doing this? _

_Sure the classes were free, but Shane had never even heard of this school, and if it was new and experimental who knew what kind of weird things they could have them doing out there in the middle of the woods._

_They could be nut jobs._

_But even with all those doubts Shane couldn't help but feel the idea growing on him.. After all, the guy did come seek him out. Him, and not Lou, so maybe the reason he hadn't heard of any of this was because they were really selective._

_Shane knew he was on the edge here, (as against it as he was before) so he asked the one question that had been buzzing on his mind the moment the recruiter had mentioned leaders._

"_Why me?"_

_He almost thought he had initiated another stare down somehow, even though this time he was legitimately asking a question as opposed to making a barb, and the recruiter (after a few seconds) seemed to get that, though that knowledge was not reflected in his answer. _

"_If this is the part," the other began slowly, bored expression firmly in place. "Where you want me to say something inspiring you can forget it. Just make sure you show up so I don't have to hunt you down."_

…_Strangely, that seemed to be the exact thing Shane needed to hear to make his decision, and the recruiter knew it too, recognition growing in his eyes once he caught sight of it. Still, Shane didn't want to let him think he had been an easy sell, so he hesitated before answering, staring down at the pamphlet. "…Okay." _

_The recruiter nodded one last time, satisfied with his answer and began to walk away, back towards his…partner. That his action was unexpected should have been something Shane was used to by now, he assumed when you recruited someone you usually got more than an "okay" to make sure they showed up, but this guy seemed to trust him, at least enough to find his way there and show up._

_In a way, it was liberating._

"_I'm Shane by the way," he called out to the recruiter's back, but the other teen didn't bother even so much as to slow down or look back, simply waved his hand vaguely in recognition._

"_I know."_

…_of course he did, because he was magical._

_Or, more logically, he had asked someone else._

_That left them on uneven ground._

"_What's your-?"Shane began to ask, but the recruiter knew where he was going._

"_Victor," the older teen answered, and with that their conversation was over, Victor off searching for other bodies to fill his school._

"_Okay then…" Shane murmured to himself, turning his attention back to the paper in his hand to really get a good look at it._

_He sighed once he caught sight of the schedule and realized it would eat up a majority of his summer. "Mom's gonna love this…"_

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So suffice it to say, Shane wasn't all that shocked that this was Victor's idea of incentive.

"You're bribing me with peanut butter?" he asked, though he really should have known better by now. Victor nodded, and there was almost this kind of…_sad_ look in his eye that gave Shane the impression that this food item meant a lot more to him than it did to the average person, and it was not a gift given lightly.

That hunch would also explain the slight bitterness in the older teen's voice when he gave an explanation. "Teagan says I need to be nicer to recru-to _students_."

And no, no he was _not_ going to explain who Teagan was _(maybe that girl from earlier)_ and Shane didn't bother asking Victor, figuring he would get the answer in due time or something like that. He really, _really_ wanted to ask why the other teen had a new jar of peanut butter in his backpack, but the odds of Shane getting a straight answer on that were slim, and considering the amount of attachment Victor had with it, he was probably better off not knowing.

Shane had a feeling that Victor connected better with peanut butter than he did with people.

And while honestly Shane wasn't totally comfortable with the idea of recruiting another student for an academy he barely knew anything about himself, he couldn't help but feel like hell, what did he really have to lose?

He was chosen to be a leader wasn't he? Worse case scenario the guy said no and Victor demanded his peanut butter back.

And he _would_ too.

Shane sighed, knowing full well he was going to do this whether he liked it or not.

"…So," he asked, rubbing his eyes irritably. "What's this guy's name?"

Victor gave an almost-smile as he began to rattle off facts, short and concise.

If the teacher's classes were half as interesting as his conversations were, Shane was pretty sure he was in for an incredible summer.

Different from what he was used to, but incredible nonetheless.

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Teagan and Ian caught the tale end of Victor's conversation with Shane when they finally made it to the park. While she and Ian were still bothered with the idea of using another student for recruiting; both of them were able to push that aside long enough to be impressed by Victor's willingness to part with his beloved peanut butter. Even though anyone who really knew the air ninja could tell this was not something he was happy about, it was the thought that counted.

Ian shared an amazed look with her before turning back and observing the conversation from their hidden perch in a nearby tree.

Teagan liked Shane, she had liked Shane before she met Shane and she had liked him after Victor gave his detailed report on their prior meeting and she _still _liked him (he had an easy going air about him, confident, but with enough common sense to be wary of strangers approaching him with promises of free training) and while he _might_ be able to get Dustin to talk (_if_ Dustin ever talked) she was still concerned, and no amount of peanut butter was going to make that go away.

The conversation ended and the two ninjas waited for Victor to retreat a safe distance away before abandoning their hiding spot and joining him, intent on coming up with a full plan, or at the very least get some answers. The air ninja wasn't surprised when they joined him, had probably been aware of their presence the entire time and waited, allowing them to make the first move.

Ian started; hand rubbing on his chin. "I couldn't help but notice," he began, and Victor rolled his eyes, urging him to get to the point. "You didn't happen to mention the whole secret-ninja-training bit."

Teagan was surprised, and the slight widening of Victor's eyes showed he was surprised too. He recovered before she did, frowning. "I usually just give them the basics and throw the more complicated things at them when they actually show up. That way there's no loose ends."

"That's what I do," Teagan added, eyebrows furrowed. "I mean, trying to sell the idea of a secret ninja Academy's a lot easier when they see the actual Academy." She turned, studying Ian. "Isn't that what you do?"

If the water ninja hadn't been so fair-skinned already Teagan's sure he would have paled. "You mean we can do _that_?" he asked, looking back and forth between them with an expression of mixed rage and disbelief.

Victor shrugged, mildly amused when he added up all the pieces. "How many times have you been called crazy this month Ian?"

Teagan opened her mouth to protest because it was _Ian_, naturally likable Ian, and no one would ever call him crazy but the blond cut her off, hands raking through his hair in frustration. "At least ten times! They don't even let me get to the part…" he trailed off, throwing up his arms in exasperation. "Why didn't either one of you tell me?"

They stared at him blankly, trying to find a delicate way to put it - or Teagan was - but Victor beat her to the punch and put it _not_ so delicately. "Because it seemed pretty obvious."

Before a brawl could start out (and it _would_ happen, Ian and Victor weren't shy abut fighting in public) Teagan changed the topic, moving on to her bigger concern. "What happened? What did he say?"

Victor turned to face her, any desire he might have had to fight leaving him completely, though it was clear Ian was still simmering from his revelation, arms crossed tight across his chest. She would have to talk with him about it later, but right now she had a student she needed to focus on.

"I told him where Dustin worked, _when_ he worked, what he looked like, and explained his…antisocial tendencies and his natural inclination to be intimidated by authority figures. I gave him an extra pamphlet and he said he would help as best he could," the air teacher paused for a moment, looking off to the side in thought. "I think it actually helped solidify his position as a recruit."

"Well," Ian huffed under his breath. "So long as it helped _you- "_

Teagan interrupted, refusing to enable her friend's bad mood. "Do you think he can do it?"

Victor nodded without hesitation. "No questions asked."

Ian frowned, allowing his hands to flop against his sides as he sighed and squinted up at the sky, deciding to move on to the current topic of conversation like everyone else. "We should probably keep an eye on how it goes," he said, looking back down at both of them, more calm. "Just in case."

Victor glared but agreed silently, and Teagan nodded, already deciding on stake out positions.

"When's this going down?" she asked, whipping out her notepad to begin jotting down information.

"Monday," Victor replied. "Four o'clock, Storm Chargers."

Ian sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Now we just have to figure out where that is." He paused, glancing back over to Victor who in normal-people terms only looked mildly bothered (and barely that) which equaled incredibly disturbed in Victor-terms. Ian reached out and gave the darker teen's shoulder a consoling pat, ending it with a brief squeeze. "Don't worry Vic, we'll get you a new jar."

The air ninja swiped at him irritably, but the other two could both tell he didn't really have the heart in it as he gave them two half-hearted glares at best, before turning to walk away.

Behind him Teagan sighed and exchanged her notepad for her emergency peanut butter, inspiring an incredulous look from Ian that she chose to ignore. She knew she was going to spend all day with Victor, and there was no _way_ she was going to do that without a little insurance.

Nothing made him behave better than his most favorite thing in the world.

As they jogged to catch up to their tall friend she gave into curiosity and shot Ian a question. "So," she began, catching his attention. "How have you managed to recruit _anyone_ of the whole secret ninja school thing?"

His frustration had died enough for him to give a chuckle, swiping at her playfully. "Not easily, mind you. Why, just before we met up at Tito's I had to give one of my best demonstrations this month."

"What's her name?" Teagan asked, knowing that only a girl would put up that much of a fight.

Ian laughed, winking at her slyly. "Tori Hanson," he said, smiling at the memory. "And if she doesn't show up when school starts I'm sending Victor after her."

Teagan smiled at the thought, and pushed him for more details, pulling Victor into the audience once they caught up to him, though she didn't have to force him to listen once he figured out what the story was.

Tori Hanson, if only Teagan had been there for that one.

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><p>Endnotes:<p>

Howdy folks, I'm back! All finals, projects, presentations, and school related work for the spring semester are complete! Finished moving out, have mostly finished unpacking, and I've finally settled back into a semi-normal schedule at home.

Updates should be much quicker from here-on out.

That being said, I would like to thank Rogue Ranger for his review, I'm glad you're enjoying this story so far, I'll keep trying to deliver. And don't worry; Dustin's misery won't be forever…just for a while. It'll take time, but he'll get there.

Now, on to the chapter…

I've said this in my other story but I'll say it again, I have immense respect for skateboarders, everything they do looks incredibly difficult and gutsy to do and I in know way mean to belittle that. I have no idea if a Backside 180 heel flip is hard or easy to do, I just looked up a list of moves and picked one randomly.

Just saying, no offense intended.

Also, I was reading over the 100 themes list before I started writing this chapter and once I saw peanut butter I was struck with the idea of Victor trying to bribe or motivate Shane with it. So if it seems a little random…well, it wasn't in my original plans but I like it.

So next chapter we'll probably get some Tori, and maybe we'll get a little Shane and Dustin. I don't know, I'll see when I get started.

Until next time.


	5. Puzzles

Chapter 5

Puzzles

Note: Because of some poor planning this chapter contains a flashback to Tori's recruitment and then a jump forward to Monday where Shane tries to recruit Dustin.

Just thought I'd give you guys a heads up.

My bad, sorry.

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><p>Tori Hanson was not an easy sell.<p>

Not in anything, no sir, her mama had raised her right. There could be no wool pulled over _this_ teenager's eyes because she, unlike many of her peers, was gifted with common sense. The commercial world was targeting people at younger and younger ages, attempting to deceive the uneducated, naive, and easy to prey upon by inventing useless paraphernalia and ideas to sell.

There was no such thing as a free lunch.

Which was why when a gentleman in his early twenties with blond hair, blue eyes, and a boyish face sporting equally boyish charm approached Tori, she couldn't help but be suspicious. He was too old to be interested in flirting and he seemed like the kind of guy who would have to beat off any college females within a hundred yard radius with a stick if anything, so romance wasn't an option here. That left either talking about her favorite sport (because she _had_ been nailing it out there) or…

Well, her mom had raised her right, so her immediate reaction was that he was trying to prey off her talent by making promises he couldn't keep. Maybe he would say he was recruiting for a team, and she was just _so_ good, and all she had to do was sign a contract and pay X amount of dollars and…

Huh, he hadn't even opened his mouth and Tori already wanted to walk away.

However, as well educated as she was she couldn't just leave him here all on his lonesome, she should at least demonstrate the appearance of manners. After that though, anything was game.

She ran her hand across her eyes one more time, wiping away any of the remaining salt while she waited for him to finish his approach, hands shifting to her hips to communicate that no funny business would be tolerated here.

Not from this person, no sir.

The meeting began differently than she had anticipated it would. Instead of being suave or charming or immediately salesman-like the blond seemed…nice, legitimately nice, and if anything, he was a little nervous.

Which was worrying.

Maybe he was a rookie con-man/sales recruiter, just getting his sea legs and wanted to start off his career with an easy hit.

Tori frowned, fighting the urge to glare as he closed up the distance between them. If that was the case, he had picked the wrong girl with which to begin.

"Hi," the blond started once he was close enough, smile pleasant and voice just as kind as she had thought it shouldn't be, though the hint of nerves she had detected were still there, barely audible, but definitely present. He stuck out his hand and she stared at it coldly, then back to him, raising an eyebrow.

_Get to the point confidence man, I have stuff to do._

The lovely smile (it _was _lovely, she couldn't deny that) faltered a little, and he gave an awkward laugh, retreating his hand and running it through his already tousled hair, looking off to the side in obvious anxiousness.

Either he was younger then she had thought he was, or he was a _really_ bad recruiter.

Or maybe he was both.

"I'm Ian," he offered, and Tori took enough pity on him to return his poor attempts with a tight smile, but still refused to talk.

"So…" he started again, when he realized she wasn't going to respond. "You're a really good surfer."

Understatement of the year. She was a slammin' surfer, easily one of the best on this beach.

She had trophies to prove it.

But instead of offering any of that up as a topic of conversation she simply nodded, accepting the fact without being overly boastful.

It didn't matter how good you were, nobody liked a bragger.

"And…you're probably wondering why I'm here," the blond admitted in an almost playful way, starting to overcome his nerves.

Hoping to speed things up just a little, Tori decided to step into the conversation, murmuring, "Yes."

Her words ignited a small hope within her foe, and he slowly began to gather up his confidence, anxiety completely fading away. "I'm a recruiter," he explained, not at all shocking Tori with the fact, but he _did_ surprise her with his blatant honesty on the subject. It could be a ploy, it could be just how he ran things, but Tori was beginning to think that maybe this guy wasn't so bad after all.

But only just _maybe_; she still needed to gather more information before she could make a definite decision on that.

"It's for a school," he continued, and Tori's mind had a weird flashback to a TV show she had seen in passing during a visit to her Aunt's house, what was it, 'Blue Bay High'? No… 'Blue Water High', that was what it was called. Some show about teenagers who got selected for a twelve month surfing program. She didn't think those kinds of things really existed (it was a TV show after all, what were the odds that kind of thing was real?) but if this guy was as genuine as she thought he was, and had seen her own the waves like she _knew_ she did, maybe, just maybe…

Excitement built up in her gut and she struggled to keep it off of her face. This was how con-men did their stuff right? They made bank on teenagers, taking advantage of their hopes and dreams.

_Focus Tori, it's game time._

She should listen to what he had to say before jumping to any conclusions.

Doing her best attempt at casual, Tori delicately cleared her throat, lessening the harsh look in her eyes to mildly scolding (couldn't let him think he had her hooked yet) before she nonchalantly asked, "What kind of school?"

_Please say surf school, please say surf school, please say surf school-_

If it was a surf school she was totally there. Where had the show taken place? Australia?

Yeah, she could _definitely_ do Australia.

He (Ian) gave a quiet laugh as though she said something funny, and a little of the tension he had from earlier came back as he looked off to the side, smiling _just_ brushing against the edge of fake.

That was _not_ a happy sign.

"You see," he started as his eyes flickered between her and the ocean (to calm him, it was a trick Tori herself had used many times). "That's the part were this gets tricky."

Either surf schools weren't as popular as she thought they were (or _he_ thought they weren't that popular, which would explain all the hesitation to put a deal out there that sounded too good to be true) or this recruitment was for a completely different kind of school. Tori's glare returned, full fledged to get him to _spit it out _**_already_** and Ian backed up in surprise, hands coming up in a defensive position to ward off the unanticipated hostility.

"Umm…" he started, right hand slowly sinking into the open blue messenger bag he carried, water stained and straps frayed from continual usage. The hand reappeared just as slowly, bringing in tow…a water bottle.

What, so he was thirsty, there was no need to get all nervous about drinking in front of a girl.

Unless he tried to offer that thing to her, then she would go all kinds of crazy on him because this chick did not accept drinks from strangers. That was practically common sense 101.

After the appearance of the water bottle Ian did a quick look over of their surroundings, so fast that Tori almost missed it, and he subtly slid a few steps to his right, blocking out all other prying eyes with his back and cutting Tori off from view by keeping her between the van, the sea, and himself.

Not good, but people could still hear her if she screamed right? She had a whistle in the van-

Wait, all those years of Tae Kwon Do had to be for something. She could put them to good use if any funny business was about to happen.

Except…it didn't.

At least, not what she had _thought_ as funny business happened.

Eyes locked on hers, Ian slowly unscrewed the cap of the water bottle and turned it over, dumping the clear liquid onto the ground.

Or, it _should_ have dumped onto the ground, but for some odd reason Tori's eyes weren't working because the water just seemed to hover in the air there; a small, ever morphing, transparent ball of liquid crystal, bobbing and reflecting the sun in waves of glitter.

Quickly she threw a hand up to her head to check her temperature; maybe she had a fever, or heatstroke-

That was it; she just hadn't been drinking enough water.

As much as her mind screamed at her to get into her van, hydrate herself, and leave this…whatever this was behind her, Tori couldn't turn away from the demonstration. Just as she managed to close her mouth, the ball/blob changed, spinning into a twisted tornado, altering its shape into…a woman, it looked like, a dancer, twirling and gliding and continuously weaving and unweaving itself, adapting and-

It slowly came to a stop; the dancer bending down until the water was a ball again, hovering just over Ian's hands like a patient pet, waiting for instruction.

Still amazed, Tori stared up at him, managing to pull her eyes away from the hovering accumulation long enough to shoot him a questioning glance.

Smiling in a way that couldn't quite capture innocence, Ian stared back at her, timidly blowing his bangs out of his face. "You see it's tricky, because it's a secret school for ninjas."

…a secret school…for ninjas.

Even _with_ the demonstration Tori still wanted to laugh in his face and call him crazy.

Luckily, Ian didn't give her the chance, and he finally took control of the conversation. "I'm a teacher at the Wind Ninja Academy," he began, low and serious, water hovering over the tips of his fingers. "I'm in charge of recruiting ten candidates for water ninja training. A natural affinity for water manifests itself differently from person to person, for you it's your surfing, and I would like to invite you to come train with us."

She opened her mouth to object because _ninjas,_ really, that was the best he had, but he didn't give her any room to argue.

"What I'm doing now," he said, water reacting to him instantly and leaping off of his fingers, shifting up towards Tori's face until it danced around her, morphing into waves and people and animals. "I can train you to do. Free of charge."

He pulled the water back again, this time funneling it back into the empty bottle and capping it off, much to Tori's disappointment.

Snapping his fingers in front of her eyes, he grabbed back her focus onto _him_. "This is our tradition. We work outside of society, we train, and then we pass on what we know."

Before she could really think about it a question tumbled out of her, snappy and mildly petulant. "Is that all you train for?"

Good humor gone, it was Ian's turn to glare at her, putting the bottle away as his disposition became entirely serious. "Someday they will need us," he said, jerking his head towards the people around them, unaware of the amazing things that have just gone down right out of there sight. "And because of _that,_ we train."

Lecture over, he pulled a pamphlet out of his bag, handing it to her. "This is our school's cover," he said. "Don't tell anyone about what we really do."

He didn't bother asking her if she was going to come or join or whatever he was offering because they both knew that she was definitely going to. There wasn't any question about that.

Exchange concluded, Ian adjusted his bag and began to walk away, picking up the happy jaunt he had when he originally showed up.

He turned before he was completely out of hearing range, cupping his hands around his mouth to shout, "And bring your running shoes!"

Running shoes, at a secret academy for ninjas.

Her summer was going to be awesome; because she wasn't a big enough fool to miss out on free ninja training.

No sir, not this girl.

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This was going to be easy.

This was going to be easy, because in Shane's mind he kept _telling_ himself it was going to be easy, so therefore he should stop feeling weird about being recruited as a junior recruiter and start feeling…awesome, about being himself.

Because Shane could do this, Shane was the man. All Shane had to do was walk across the store when the red head lady wasn't looking, slip past her and confront the curly-haired teen who was hunched over an abused bike. He would be charismatic and charming and incredibly unintimidating, and maybe he would sneak a joke in about the teachers and then the brown-haired guy would realize that it wasn't a hoax or con (Shane had done his research, the Academy was legit) and they would share a laugh about it.

Right, it was just that easy.

Now all he had to do was make himself walk across the room.

_Pep talk, go._ _Pep talk, go._ _Pep talk, go._

Shane took a deep breath to steady himself and casually made his way across the room, ducking into the shop when the cashier wasn't looking. The mechanic (Dustin, Victor had said his name was) didn't notice him at first, he was too busy…changing oil, or something, so Shane took up a spot on the counter not too far from him, waiting for the other teen to catch on to his presence. It didn't take long, though he was a little surprised that Dustin's initial reaction to him seemed to be_ "oh my god"_ fear on top of the shock Shane had known would inevitably be there.

Shane held up his hands cautiously, trying to calm Dustin somewhat as he put on his best comforting smile.

This was going to be a little harder than he originally thought.

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Dustin hadn't noticed the footsteps when they had first come in.

Well, he had, but only in like, the back of his mind. He _had_ heard them, but the only person who ever came back into the shop to bother him during work hours was Kelly and she _always_ started talking as soon as she hit the door. She didn't like the silence or something. Wanted him to experience some happy socializing.

It was one of the nicer things people did for him.

So when footsteps came his way and talking didn't immediately happen (and the footsteps sounded wrong anyway, slower and a little louder, definitely not Kelly's) Dustin just assumed he had heard _way_ wrong or his ears were spazzing and pushed the thought away, retuning his focus to the bike in front of him.

But then he heard this…like, coughy/throat clearing thing off to his side, further down the counter, and even though he _knew_ nobody could possibly be there, he looked anyway, and…

Low and behold, there stood a guy in a red sweatshirt (skater, was the first thing that came to Dustin's mind) standing there like he owned the place and had every right in the world to be there.

Dustin really hoped the other teen didn't want to talk to him, or maybe he was lost, oh, or maybe he was foreign and couldn't even speak English and had just wandered in because he loved bikes so much and-

"Hi," the tan guy said in perfectly good English, shattering Dustin's foreign theory into a bazillion pieces. The mechanic said nothing, darting his eyes back to the bike and picking up the wrench he had been looking for earlier, before he had realized his personal sanctity had been intruded.

Maybe if he just ignored the other guy he would go away.

That would make Dustin _really_ happy.

But after a few minutes of awkward silence the red clad teenager tried again, a little louder in case Dustin hadn't heard him (even though they both knew he had and was just being a coward about it).

"Hi."

Against better judgment Dustin risked a quick glance at skater man, trying to keep his face neutral even though his insides were gurgling with fear and unhappiness. Knots were forming, slow and steady and he felt like he was about to lose his lunch.

What did that guy want from him?

A few more minutes of silence, Dustin kept to his work and the other guy kept to breathing his air and not leaving. Eventually he broke the silence, making Dustin feel even worse about himself because he had absolutely _no_ idea how it applied to the conversation.

"Are you a sociopath?" the tall guy asked suddenly, and Dustin couldn't stop himself from sending a confused look.

Seeing that he finally had Dustin's attention, the guy asked again, eyebrows raised. "Seriously dude."

_Seriously dude, what?_

What did he want from him?

And what was a…

Dustin shouldn't ask, because asking was talking and he was pretty sure if he kept _not_ talking he would be allowed to get out of this completely unscathed, but his curiosity got the better of him and he asked anyway, hesitantly meeting the other teen's eyes. "…What's a sociopath?"

It was his lucky day, because apparently that was a thing that normal people didn't know either, so the guy happily gave him the answer, clarifying in an easy going way that _did not_ make Dustin super incredibly jealous. "Antisocial guy; doesn't care about other peoples feelings."

Dustin opened his mouth to object, (he cared about other people, they just didn't care about _him_) but then he realized that would be a lot more talking than he wanted to do so he snapped his mouth shut and shook his head quickly.

The other guy was finally picking up on how he communicated and accepted his answer for the no that it was and moved on, asking a question of his own. "Then why don't you talk?"

"Because I'm smart," the brunette replied. Instantly he realized that he had said that out loud and flinched, hesitantly looking at the other guy to see he was confused. Dustin attempted to explain. "I mean…I'm not smart, so I don't talk, because I learned…" he trailed off, glaring at the floor.

Were they done yet?

"What?" the other teen asked, thoroughly kicking Dustin while he was down or rubbing salt in the wound or whatever phrase you use when somebody was being a gigantic jerkface to a poor, innocent, unassuming souls.

Dustin lowered his head, turning his attention back to the bike because bike's were only jerkfaces when you didn't treat them right, and Dustin _always_ treated them right.

"Talking's bad," he mumbled, rubbing away some gunk to exhibit his good will.

The bike responded by not being evil.

It was nice.

The not-foreign invader continued the conversation that shouldn't be happening but was happening anyway with unfair ease, trying to enlighten Dustin with some life changing advice. "You know you're going to have to do it someday, right?"

What kind of guidance was that? Of course Dustin knew he had to talk, he was freaking talking right _now_.

Clearly, sweatshirt man was not the most observant of people.

But Dustin tried to be nice, so he mildly supported the other guy's words by shaking his head (no talking done here) while simultaneously following his rules so both of them could be happy.

Despite his hard work, the red guy still sounded a little put off whenever he spoke again, sighing tiredly. "Whatever."

"_Whatever."_

That was not good. Whatever...whatever was a dismissal. Wait, maybe that _was_ good. Maybe he would leave now

Except he didn't, he was still standing there, running a hand through his hair and looking off to the side when Dustin risked a quick look at him, so it really _was_ a bad "whatever". Dustin hated mid-conversation "whatever's", he never knew how to respond to them. It was his turn to talk, he knew that, but he didn't know what to…

Why was the guy here? Did he want to talk shop (and if he did why couldn't he just start doing that so Dustin could actually know what they were talking about)? He didn't look like he did, he hadn't even looked at the bike Dustin was working on (except for when he like, scoped out the room earlier) and it was a really cool one.

So he wasn't here for the bikes, and he wasn't one of Dustin's old friends…

Why was he here?

Inspiration struck suddenly, and Dustin remembered his run-in, run-away with Teagan, (maybe he was one of her goons?) and he managed to strike enough courage to voice his genius discovery. "Did Teagan send you?"

He even managed to maintain steady eye contact because he was so sure he was right, but he might as well not have bothered because red guy just gave him a look of surprise and confusion Dustin was oh-so familiar with, and a sinking feeling hit him as the skater took his turn to kind-of ask a question.

"…No?"

Dustin deflated instantly, turning away to hide the embarrassed flush that rose to his cheeks, because when he was wrong, he had to be _wrong_. This guy was probably looking for a spare part for his friend's birthday and had nothing to do with nice looking, not-nice ladies who tried to trick you into friendship and rehabilitation. Dustin expected the conversation to end here, for the red guy to give up and leave and come back whenever someone _not_ spazzy was working (he could have asked Kelly, she couldn't have been that busy) but tan man just stayed there…or, Dustin doesn't hear him leave.

Maybe he did leave, maybe this was just some illusion and Dustin was really going crazy and talking to people who aren't there.

Was he really that lonely?

"Victor sent me."

The voice snapped Dustin out of worrying about his sanity and he turned his head sharply, looking at the guy who could possibly-not-be-there's eyes, _again_. Dustin was doing really good today. But he stopped worrying whenever the words really hit him and he remembered who Victor the-angry-beast was (aside from being an angry beast), and the brunette figured that he _was_ right with this having to do with Teagan.

This was just one of angry beast's goons, instead of her's.

"That's worse," Dustin muttered, thinking about Teagan's permanently frowning shadow, and he wondered how angry Kelly would be if he cut out of work early.

He also wondered if he could outrun the man in red.

Probably not, if he was as athletic as he looked.

"You know Victor?" the skater asked, interested and leaning forward to show off his interested-ness, and Dustin was forced to take a small step back, eyeing the exit quickly.

"I know _of_ him," the mechanic answered quietly, trying to judge the distance between him and the backdoor, but the sweater man didn't move any closer, so he stayed still, irresolute and doubtful. The red clad teen continued not to attack him or be intimidating (which was weird because most people did that without even trying to) and looked at him with this…satisfaction on his face, nodding slowly.

"Then you know why I'm here."

Dustin gave a jerked nod in response, preparing himself for recruitment speech part 2 (_this time it meant it_) while also trying to hide (and failing to hide) how antsy he was.

The other shook his head in disbelief at Dustin's actions, throwing one of his hands in the air. "Dude, you know it's just a self defense class, not the social Olympics. I'm pretty sure _they_ do most of the talking."

And…there were words were coming out, but none of them were making sense, and Dustin stared at sweatshirt man for a full minute before his confusion overwhelmed him and a question slipped out, completely unintentional.

"What?"

It was the other guy's turn to look confused, and he furrows his eyebrows, concerned. "I don't know what Teagan's been telling you, but the whole thing's pretty straight forward. You'll probably be too tired to be able to talk by the end of it anyway."

Um…what?

The words blurted out before they were supposed to (they're supposed to _never_) and the other guy had Dustin's complete and undivided attention (which was pretty impressive, considering how short his attention span was). "What are you talking about?"

It was the other's turn to look confused (again).

"The self defense classes at the Wind Academy," he began, looking at Dustin as though he were a few crayons short of a box but trying desperately to hide it (well, at least the thought was nice). "They started recruiting for the summer and Teagan wanted you in her class." The _"are you crazy"_ look turned into another examination which did not do anything good for Dustin's nerves, and he fidgeted in place helplessly, wishing he was invisible. "What did you think she wanted?"

"Nothing," the mechanic responded quickly, not at all super-defensive or embarrassed and not turning his face away to hide the defensive super embarrassedness that he did not have.

Yeah, who was he kidding.

The other guy caught sight of his blush anyway (because Dustin couldn't hide things for _nothing_) but tried to make light of it. "What, did you think she was going to ask you out? You afraid of girls or something?"

"No," Dustin replied immediately, even though it was kind of true, he knew that was the kind of thing you kept to yourself _always_ because you weren't supposed to actively give out ammunition for other people to use against you. Not that Dustin had ever been that successful, he wasn't always sure what you were supposed to hide vs. what was okay to share.

That was why not talking was usually the easiest option.

The red guy seemed to have found the heart of the issue, which was good because that meant at least _one_ of them knew what was going on here.

"You didn't even let her talk about the classes did you?" he asked, chuckling at some joke he didn't feel inclined to share. "Dude, you have problems."

Dustin flushed and glared at him, the comment striking a sore point, giving the brunette temporary bravery. "Shut up!"

He _knew_ he had problems, he didn't need to be reminded of it, this _entire_ _conversation_ had been a glaring reminder of that.

For once he had the drop on the other guy. The skater took a few steps back, holding his hands up in a peaceful gesture. "Chill man, I didn't mean anything by it."

That was _supposed _to be the end of it, the red man was supposed to give up right there and leave and Dustin was supposed to get on with his life in quiet solitude just like he always had and just like he always would, but _fate_ had always been of a differing opinion.

In Dustin's opinion, fate was incredibly _stupid_.

"Don't mind him bro, this guy's just a spazz."

Dustin froze at the far-too familiar voice, as though if he held still long enough Trevor would think he was just another piece of furniture and leave him alone. Maybe if he didn't breathe he would blend into the background like a chameleon or something. The skater, unaware of the doom and gloom that could possibly be waiting for them turned his head to take stock of the two new intruders, Trevor and Kyle, two of the posse with which Dustin used to hang out.

Looked like they chose today to play 'kick the puppy'.

Dustin didn't know what was worse, the fact that they had managed to slip past Kelly or the fact that he was about to get verbally schooled in front of a stranger who had tolerated him through a conversation that did not leave Dustin feeling completely awful about himself.

A little, but not completely.

Kyle, never one to be outdone, stepped in quickly, nudging Trevor's arm in a conspiring fashion while he threw a wink red man's way. "Trust us; you're better off leaving him alone."

Dustin, unable to think of anything that could really dispute that argument decided to say nothing, choosing to keep his hands occupied by fiddling with a random tool until they had finished and left. Or until Kelly came back and rained holly hell upon them.

Either way.

He expected some kind of agreement to be made on the sweater guy's part; he _had_ spent the last five minutes leading what Dustin considered a very confusing conversation, so it was safe to say he had not seen one of the brunette's finer moments. Dustin had an idea of how it would go. _He_ would say something, _they_ would say something and then they would all laugh and Dustin would go back to trying to be a statue.

It was the only way it could go down.

Except…well, Dustin wasn't always one to properly guess how things turned out, so instead of laughter or chuckling or any variation of merriment the skater guy's voice got all serious and stuff (which was beyond weird) and maybe even a little threatening when he responded.

"I think I can judge that for myself," he murmured, and Dustin snapped his head up in surprise, shocked to see that sweater man was actually staring the two jerkoffs down. And then, to add the cherry on top, he sarcastically added, "_Bro._"

Clearly, Dustin was not the only one startled by this turn of events. Trevor and Kyle stared at red man for like, ten whole seconds before they realized he actually meant it (and then _Dustin_ realized he actually meant it and was _not_ playing a joke on him) and they shrugged and slinked away, back to whatever hole they came from.

It was, without a doubt, one of the coolest things Dustin had ever seen in his life.

He was still staring after then when the skater started speaking again.

"They bother you often?" he asked, catching the mixed look of surprise and confusion on Dustin's face. The mechanic didn't know what to tell him, he knew Red deserved an answer (he had stuck up for Dustin) but he hated the answer and…

And Dustin remembered what they were originally talking about and latched onto that, answering at least one of his savior's questions. "When do those classes start?"

He wasn't…this wasn't something he did, ever; it was completely against the rules but…

Maybe it was just a ploy, maybe Teagan and the angry beast and this guy just really needed a body to fill up their training camp thing, but maybe…

Maybe Dustin would get to see this guy again. He didn't seem so bad. He wasn't like Teagan, he didn't really press Dustin to talk, or make him feel bad when he did, he just…accepted, whatever the brunette said. Also, he didn't mind holding up a majority of the conversation by himself, so that was a plus.

The dark-skinned teen looked at him hard for a moment, frowning, like he was staring into Dustin soul, and then he shrugged and reached into his pocket, pulling out a pamphlet.

"Cool, they start Monday, May 18th, nine am sharp." Dustin took the pamphlet from him and stared at it, tracing the words with his fingers. "So, can I take that as a yes?"

Dustin hesitantly nodded, griping the paper tightly, reading every word with excellent care. When he had taken karate he had liked it, but he hadn't needed it as badly as he needed solace from the world. Taking these classes now…

If he got another chance to see this guy, maybe it would be worth it.

Besides, the pamphlet said it was free and everything and they couldn't _make_ him come back if he hated it after one day.

When Dustin looked up again the friendly invader was smiling at him, and he even reached forward and clasped the side of Dustin's shoulder. "Great man, see you then."

He walked away before Dustin could say anything else, high fiving some random guy on his way out the door.

-:-:-:-:-:-

-:-:-:-:-:-

-:-:-:-:-:-

When Kelly eventually came back to peek in on Dustin she found him slightly mesmerized, staring at a paper pamphlet with great intensity. She snapped him out of it when she asked what the paper was about, receiving a hesitant _'nothing'_ before he shoved the pamphlet into his backpack. He hurried about the shop, picking back up where he had left off, but he couldn't hide the small smile that graced his lips.

That sight alone made Kelly grateful that she allowed that Shane kid to slip past her notice. She would keep a handle on the situation of course, if the skater did anything that even _mildly_ looked like it endangered Dustin's physical or emotional well being she would ban that kid from the store completely, not before, of course, delivering a stern warning.

She had the best sports shop for miles, and she was willing to use that fact to her advantage when it came to her favorite mechanic's happiness.

Yes, life was good when you were the one on top.

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><p>-:-:-:-:-:-<p>

* * *

><p>Endnotes:<p>

So...'spazzy' is the word of the day.

Hey! This story still exists! Stuff is happening, and other stuff as well!

As though you couldn't tell.

My best regards to ValkyrieNyght and Rogue Ranger for reviewing last chapter. Snaps all around for you. It's always nice to have a pep talk, considering the fact I wrote at least a fifth of this while I was sick.

Yes…I have it calculated down to the fifth.

As for the PR 100 themes challenge, it's something I came over while traipsing about Tsukino Akume's material. She uses it for a few of her stories and through sheer force of will I eventually found the livejournal link that explains it.

It is here (of course, minus the spaces):

prfic100. livejournal profile

I tried googling it to, but it just can't be done. You got to know where to look.

Until next time.


	6. Pancakes

Chapter 6

Pancakes

Time jump, to the future!

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><p>-:-:-:-:-:-<p>

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><p>Time had never flown by so quickly for Dustin.<p>

One week ago he was just doing his normal thing; coasting through school, getting as much ride time at the track as he could, working his magic in the back of Storm Chargers, and then suddenly it was all over, no more school, no more homework, simply vacation.

Dustin had survived his finals somehow (thank goodness he had managed to make sense of all his subjects because he _could_ _not_ do summer school), aside from the fact that he had already filled out all his paperwork for the Academy, it would just be too cruel for the world to slam him back into that place of torture (paper cuts, teachers, _other people_, it was too much for him to bare). There _had_ been a few moments where he had been afraid the whole Academy thing was just a hoax, he had looked it up online as soon as he had gotten home with the pamphlet, and it _looked_ legit, but still…

But then Dustin had received his first official letter from them, an invitation he was to present on the first day (to make sure he was really him, he guessed, because this school was super selective and why did they pick him of all people?) and all he had to do after that was sneak the form onto his mother's desk and get her to sign it. She didn't ask much (though she did like the pamphlet) but she filled in the dotted line so that was alright with Dustin.

He still saw Teagan, from time to time. She would drop by the shop and chat with him for a while about anything, everything. She stopped asking questions (which was nice because he wasn't ready for that kind of a commitment yet) but she was bound and determined to keep him company. Her subjects varied from the weather, to recruitment, to Victor (as though Dustin held some special bond with that angry man simply because they were both motocross riders). She didn't talk about the sweatshirt man though, which kind of disappointed the brunette.

He may have…dropped by the skate park a couple of times, just to see if his hunch was right.

Dustin kept his distance though, hiding behind trees and wearing sunglasses. He even kept a magazine on him so he could look busy if anybody ever looked his way. They never did, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

Success came on his second visit. He had beaten himself up a lot about the first time because he hadn't see sweatshirt man, and he felt a little like a creeper, but curiosity made Dustin come back, just to…to make sure he was thoroughly wrong.

He wasn't though, for there, in the distance, _was_ red guy.

He wasn't wearing a sweatshirt today though, it was just a shirt (but it was still red, which seemed fitting because for some odd reason Dustin couldn't picture him in any other color). Dustin tried…whenever the guy decided to take a break and was just drinking water all alone, he tried to go over there, to make small talk. It just didn't…

The guy had only been sent to recruit him, so he probably didn't even _like_ Dustin all that much, he was just doing his job and…

It never happened, Dustin never worked up the courage, though he _did_ manage to ask Kelly if she knew him (Dustin recognized the board he used as one Storm Chargers carried, and Kelly never forgot a face) and as luck would have it, she did.

Shane…_Clarke_ (that was it), his name was Shane.

His name was Shane, and he was tall and tan and liked red and rode skateboards and stood up for Dustin, though that may or may not be because he really wanted the mechanic to go to this academy thing. His name was Shane and he seemed like a decent human being as opposed to the human beings Dustin normally came in contact with (aside from Kelly, and he wasn't really ready to put Teagan on that list either).

Shane, it was practically a name of champions.

Dustin didn't go back to the skate park a third time. He was afraid he would get stupidly courageous and decide to make a fool of himself, thoroughly showing off his creepy stalking skills or even worse, epically failing social skills.

But he didn't forget Shane..

He hoped the other teen would be at the Academy too. Dustin had been looking forward to May 18th for that specific reason.

_Ooh_…see, super creepy stalker skills.

Not cool.

And he _had_ to play it cool. He had hope for Shane (maybe, if he still dared to hope) and maybe if Dustin stuck with this defense school thing the other guy _couldn't_ get rid of him, even if he wanted to.

Dustin really hoped he didn't want to.

So time had flown (partially, maybe, but he wasn't really crediting that to his not-obsession with Shane even thought that was really why) until it was _finally_ the morning of the big day.

First day of training (Dustin had read it in the pamphlets, that was what they called it) at the Wind Academy. He had brought his bike home from the shop yesterday, stowing it in the storage shed (he didn't have a car, and even if he did he would probably still use his bike because the wind wooshing past you and the speed and maneuverability always made him feel _so_ much better when he felt like he was going to die from nerves). He had set like, three different alarms (he was _not_ going to oversleep and ruin this, he was going to get up early and make himself wake up and eat a breakfast of champions and get there with plenty of time to spare), which _had_ been a good idea but he almost wished he had set a camera up because it had been quite a feat of will for him to pull himself out of bed and stumble around the room to turn them all off.

In hindsight, he probably should have put them all in one place, but details like that tended to escape him.

He set the alarm clocks, shouldn't that count for something?

Even if he had accidentally set one of them for PM so it _hadn't_ gone off but he still fiddled with it for like, five minutes until he realized it wasn't the one making the buzzing sounds that were plaguing his brain.

It was still early though, (he had accounted for his inability to wake up properly). It was still dark outside when Dustin tiptoed down the stairs, taking great care to avoid the creaky floorboards as he made his way to the kitchen, not wanting to wake his sister up. His mom had already left but Liv had just gotten back from school and was spending most of her time crashing after her crazy mad finals week. He didn't know how she did it, he could barely make it through High School, he would never make it through college. At least, not the kind his mother wanted him to got to.

Now what he needed was…something sweet. But not like, too sweet, and something that had a lot of carbs, because carbs gave you the most energy and he needed something to hold him over to lunch.

He had just the thing in mind.

The perfect way to start your day, better than nasty coffee (a deceiving wench was what it was, all smelling deliciously awesome and then tasting like sludge) and less prone to making you throw up like cereal (yeah, he tried eating that once right before going for a jog, _never _again).

Pancakes. Delicious, wonderful, never-to-go-wrong pancakes.

And grapefruit juice, because he wanted it.

He was nervous about what was going to happen, nervous about seeing other people willingly, but the routine of making pancakes brought him some small comfort. It was enough for him to lose himself in the mixing process, for just a little while. It had taken Dustin a long time to get as good with a skillet as he was now, but after his mom and dad divorced (he was like, eight at the time) and his mom started working like a crazy, earning overtime by the bucketful (or whatever you measured overtime with, probably _hours_ or something stupidly appropriate like that), Dustin had figured out that if he wanted to eat like, _good_ food ever again he was going to have to cook it himself.

Honestly, he was impressed that he had only caused _one_ minor fire during his self education, and he still denied responsibility for it because not one of the cooking shows ever told him it was a bad idea to put aluminum in a microwave, and if it was going to cause a tiny electrical storm (which would have been awesome if it wasn't so frightening) shouldn't that be something they tell you? Like, at the beginning?

_Warning: your microwave will attempt to kill you should you dishonor it by allowing tinfoil in its presence. Purchase aluminum at your own risk. _

You know, something like that.

The edges were bubbling so he flipped them over with expert care; he'd make some extra for Liv; put them in the oven on low so they'd still be warm whenever she woke up, probably around noon.

He allowed himself a small smile, permitting himself to feel just the tiniest bit excited about what was to come. He didn't know if today was going to be awesome, but it was going to be _something_, which was a little better than the hum-drum life he had built up for himself.

Even if it mentally scarred him, at least he gave the world another shot right?

Well…he would take Liv's pepper spray just in case.

No sense in being unprepared.

-:-:-:-:-:-

-:-:-:-:-:-

-:-:-:-:-:-

Tori was surprised she had managed to get any sleep at all last night, she almost felt like she was six years old again, waiting up all night, wishing for time to pass by more quickly so it could hurry up and be Christmas. She had always loved that holiday (really, who didn't?), and maybe _now_ wasn't quite the same, not like back then, but she still had that same restless anxiety she got before the first day of school every year, mixed in with absolute excitement.

She was going to be a ninja.

Eventually of course, given time.

Maybe she was being foolish, because ninja school didn't exactly sound like a place that easily transferred credits, but ever since Ian's demonstration she was bound and determined to go. The paperwork was completed quickly, and she had spent a good two weeks persuading her parents that yes, she really wanted to do this, yes, she remembered dropping Tae Kwon Do in favor of surfing, yes, it was legit, just look at the pamphlet…

She had managed to seal the deal by enlisting Ian's help.

As he was officially affiliated with The Wind Academy (he even had a business card to prove it, which Tori ultimately decided was something she appreciated as opposed to being creeped out by the thoroughness of the school's guise) he could clarify any doubts her parents had that made them object to her participation in the Summer session. It was a very formal affair, she had convinced her parents to invite Ian over for dinner (which had led to a very long and awkward reboot of the birds and the bees conversation, despite her protests that their relationship was strictly professional) to discuss the ins and outs of the Academy curriculum.

To show her dedication to the idea she spent a majority of the days proceeding this event cleaning with great vigor, and not just the dining room, but the bathrooms (all of them, even the upstairs ones that Ian was never going to use, _if_ he used the bathroom at all), the kitchen, _and_ the grand foyer. She helped her mother in every way possible cooking wise, peeling potatoes, chopping onions, shooing her little sister out of the room whenever she got in the way (Tori loved her, and her intentions were good, but this was serious business and nothing, _nothing_ could mess it up, not even a little bit).

By the end of it her hard work paid off. Ian thoroughly charmed her parents, no hint of the nerves he possessed when he first approached her. He must have coached himself…or he was a lot better with lying than he was with the truth.

Either way she was in, her parents had given her their full blessing and signed all the forms that required their signature (Tori was still trying to determine if the Academy legitimately used the paperwork or if it was merely for the parent's benefit), and now here she was, the morning of, excitement churning nervously in her stomach, arguing with herself over what to wear.

It was stupid because she had already had this debate _yesterday_, just to avoid this kind of early morning snag, and it had been stupid _then_ too because Ian had already told her they were going to receive training garbs (garbs, seriously, this school needed to update its lingo) so it wasn't like she'd be in her civies that long anyway. But still…she was a teenage girl, and she was allowed these kind of minor conflicts that were ultimately irrelevant.

And really, what did one wear that was appropriate for their first day of secret ninja training?

Did it even matter, she wasn't trying to impress anybody (except for Sensei Kanoi, more commonly known as just "Sensei" by Ian, and he was the man in charge), so why was this so freaking hard?

Sighing, Tori gave up and went back to her original outfit, refusing to have any second thoughts. Aqua had always done right by her, and she wasn't going to abandon it now over some early morning hesitations.

Problem solved, Tori quietly made her way down the stairs. Her father was already outside, trying to get a jump start on the front lawn before the weeds got organized and completely took over, and her little sister Anna was probably up and awake at her easel, (ever since she got that thing for her birthday it had been almost impossible to get her away from it), but her mom and Ceci were still getting some well deserved rest (Ceci just got back from her second year at UCSD and was taking her vacation very seriously, apparently the life of a theatre major was a thoroughly exhausting one).

She slid into the kitchen, fumbling with easy familiarity for the ingredients she needed to make her breakfast of choice.

Blueberry pancakes this time, they had just gone to the store and if Ceci felt like complaining she could wake up and make her own freaking food.

As soon as Tori began pouring the batter onto the griddle Anna made her grand entrance. Like clockwork, spattered in renegade acrylic paint (so she had finally moved on from pastels), and she smiled, waving her fingers merrily before she made a beeline for the refrigerator, securing some much needed orange juice. The routine brought some comfort to Tori, eased her nerves a little bit and she finished off the batter, loading up a clean plate high with pancakes before bringing them over to the table, where Anna sat, unapologetically perky, places set and drinks retrieved.

Tori could give this to her, she could've gotten much worse for a little sister.

They finished up their meal in silence, Tori's mind always occupied on what was waiting for her at the Wind Academy, what secrets they had in store. She smiled around her fork, lifting her eyebrows at Anna, as though they were sharing some silent secret in the early hours of the morning, and her little sister grinned back, unaware of the pure awesome Tori was going to learn.

Maybe in a couple years her sister would get recruited too. Maybe the next Ian would see great promise in Anna's aptitude for water colors or something.

Or maybe not; Tori couldn't really focus on it right now.

First day of secret ninja training, bring it on.

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To be completely honest Shane was surprised he had managed to wake himself up when his alarm clock went off, let alone remember that this also supposed to be his first day at that Academy, despite the fact that his mom had reminded him several times the night before.

It wasn't that he didn't _want_ to go, he was all for it, though his mood had been somewhat dampened by how enthusiastic his parents had been once they discovered his interest in anything that mildly enforced some kind of discipline. Structure, his dad said, was exactly the thing Shane needed, and between him and his mom all things that could possibly be researched about the Wind Academy were checked into, including an interview they somehow managed to wrangle out of a graduated student.

Seriously, Shane's parents were freaky.

But he wasn't one to pull out of a commitment just because his parents actually supported it (that would be petty…and partially desired, but mostly petty). He was going to do this, he was going to do it well, he just…

Well, could you blame a guy for wanting to sleep in during his summer vacation?

Shane muddled through his morning routine (he really should be trying to go faster, he didn't leave himself a lot of time for delays because he was trying to get as much sleep as he could) managing to make it downstairs without damaging himself or any miscellaneous furniture, which was somewhat of a victory for him.

His parents were already gone; dad was working, and mom had to take Dana to some cheer camp or something, Shane wasn't sure, he hadn't really been paying attention.

_Gah_, it was too early in the morning for other people to be awake, let alone be out of the house. Still, it was nice to have the place to himself. It was quieter, and there was no one to confuse Shane's pre-nine am brain.

The best part about this whole…defense training thing was the abundance of excuses that it was going to provide for Shane. He wasn't even sure how long it was supposed to go on for (there was a calendar, but he hadn't really looked at it) but he knew he was going to take advantage of it. Extra training, study time, whatever; it was going to save him from Saturday night dinners with Porter, who liked to drop in during the Summer to catch up. In Shane's case "catching up" was more of an interrogation on the future, something he hadn't, _didn't_ want to plan right now (he was still in high school, wasn't he supposed to be enjoying that or something?) and the only thing their conversations ever did was put Shane on edge, creating this wall of tension between himself and his parents that they always refused to address.

So he would take what he could get, and it wasn't like they could object to it, they had practically flung him into this program (they didn't even need to meet Victor, which was good because Shane wasn't too sure how persuasive the teacher's presence would have been being that he was…well, _himself_).

Shane had only seen the recruiter a couple times since their first meeting, once for Shane to give him a thumbs up on that Dustin kid, and another time to make sure he wasn't backing out. After that, Shane had pretty much been left to his own devices, not that he minded.

It was nice to enjoy what little free time he could get.

Victor had assured him Shane would still be able to ride but, just based on the teacher's physique (a purely informational perusal) Shane was going to guess he would be too tired for anything else which…didn't bug him as much as he thought it would.

Weird.

Shane stumbled into the kitchen, slowly completing his wake up ritual as he made his way to the refrigerator, opening up the freezer portion until he found the ego pancakes, because Dana had some kind of personal grudge against waffles, and he popped them into the toaster oven, pausing for a few minutes while he tried to remember how to get the thing started.

Turn the knob, right…something like that.

He looked at the clock, narrowing his eyes to make the blur go away.

And…_shit_, he had thirty minutes to get there and he wasn't entirely sure where _there_ was. _That_ certainly woke Shane up, giving him a jolt of energy as he ran back up the stairs, grabbing his backpack quickly and stumbling back down, jumping over the bottom five stairs to the ground.

By the time he finished shoving a water bottle into his bag and locating his directions, courtesy of Victor, the pancakes were done, and Shane grabbed them with his free hand, pulling out his keys with his other as he ran out of the house, slamming and locking the door behind him.

Right, get there (to the middle of some forest, something about the natural atmosphere helping students focus or…whatever), relatively on time, and hopefully he'd learn some defensive stuff or something. Knowing most schools though, day one would probably be as epically boring as Shane expected it to be, but at least he would get to see Victor so _a little_ entertainment was guaranteed.

It wasn't much, but it was _something_.

Besides, it was school, how exciting could he expect it to be?

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><p>Endnotes:<p>

Superbly exciting, you just don't know it :)

Hey, I didn't push this story off another month, which I am incredibly proud of because I have this nasty habit of forgetting about it.

*sigh* Sorry…

Anywho, a triple shot of thank you, thank you, thank you to Rogue Ranger and ValkyrieNyght. Inspiration was engaged and fully activated!

So yes, this _is_ a prequel to Any Moment, though I intended it to work as a stand alone since it's just going to focus on their friendship and team bonding and stuff of that nature (not that Any Moment didn't spend like…_forever_ faffing about doing that).

I had the fun duty of naming siblings this chapter, something I had always managed to get out of by simply…calling them like, sister, and holy crap are there a lot of them.

_That_ was a fun little party.

Interesting fact, Liv is short for Elizabeth (didn't know that), Ceci for Celia, Anna for Annabelle, and Dana's...well, Dana's just Dana.

I also decided to give backstory via pancakes, though there will be more, but I was reading the list and this just kind of jumped out at me.

Next chapter is the ninja one, and I'm bursting with anticipation for writing Dustin's bit.

No, I do not pick favorites, how dare you infer such a thing ;)

Until next time.


	7. Hope

Chapter 7

Hope

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><p>Huddled masses of teenagers should not be this scary to approach.<p>

Especially when Dustin was being very generous with the definition of "masses". Considering that there were only about eight of them gathered at the far end of the parking lot (which was also a very liberal use for the term as it was really more of a glorified field that just _happened_ to hold a congregation of cars/bikes/Moped-like vehicles). The school was down the path, probably, there was nowhere else for them to go and he doubted all the classes would take place in the parking lot, though that _would_ justify the "free" part of the academy's services.

But…no, there was Teagan, ushering them to better and brighter things. She dispersed the group, somewhat lessening Dustin's growing sense of nervous anticipation. He had yet to leave the safety of his bike, making a show of packing away his helmet and tying his shoes, sighing with relief as soon as the last teenager disappeared from sight. Maybe this was a mistake, maybe he should back out while he still had his dignity and peace of mind. Kelly would be happy, he could work more hours, and his mom would be happy because of his dedication to his job, and _he_ would be happy because he wouldn't have a heart attack before seventeen and-

"Cool bike."

Dustin leapt suddenly, reacting to the surprise voice and flailing in an impressive display of clumsiness as he lost his balance. His ankle tilted precariously on a rock before collapsing altogether, sending him tumbling back onto the ground where he had originally been not-spying on the easily sociable students. The following laugh didn't wound him as badly as he thought it would, it was like…delighting in the world, not harsh and barbed like it was taking pleasure in his misfortune. It was light and happy and…it somehow made Dustin happy to.

Which was why he met the owner of the voice's eyes with a bright smile of his own, taking stock of the person that made this terribly epic morning less monstrous to approach.

It was a girl, blonde hair, blue eyes, blue clothes, the whole shebang, sporting a wry smile and offering Dustin a hand up, which he gladly accepted because the ground was steadily becoming less comfortable to lounge on.

"Hi," she said, eyes sparkling in that Disney Princess way that almost made her seem more perfect than the world should allow, "I'm Tori."

Dustin blinked slowly, registering the conversation (because warning bells were _not_ going off in his mind and warning bells _always_ went off when he was talking to strangers, especially seemingly perfect Barbie replicas).

Cautious, he stuck his hand, clearing his throat slowly. "Dustin…uh, Brooks."

He winced, berating himself for the mental slip-up brought on by the sparkly-eyed bedazzlement. Rule number eight, don't volunteer your last name or any other extra information, it didn't matter how nice they seemed. You are a bad judge of character and you should _not_ offer information that could allow potential psycho killers to hunt you down and do unspeakable horrors to you.

No, he was not being paranoid, he was simply…prepared.

Because blonde-haired, blue-eyed, perfect teenage girls turned out to be psycho killers all the time.

Totally.

The maybe-psycho killer's eyes shined in the sunlight (they were really pretty, and Dustin had to force himself not to stare because that was what creeper's did and he was most certainly not a creeper). She returned the handshake with ease, grip firm but reassuring, and as soon as he let go she looped her arm around his, cheerfully pulling Dustin towards the path as though they were the chummiest of chums and had _not_ just met and bonded five seconds ago over Dustin's epic fail of a spy attempt.

"You excited?" She chirped, happy bounce in her step, and Dustin had to stop gawking at their joined arms long enough to think up a sufficient answer.

Which was a lot harder than it should have been.

"…Yes," he settled on, deeming it as an appropriate response. Sure, he was ten different kinds of afraid, but with Tori merrily strolling along beside him, he was _kind've_ looking forward to this. Even if she would inevitably dump him in favor of better company, he would enjoy it while he could.

"Me too," she carried on, either ignoring or oblivious of Dustin's hesitation, which filled him with as much joy as it did dread, because one of those reason's made her just about as awesome as Shane and the other one made her a complete jerkface he should escape and run away from. At the moment he was leaning towards the first one, but like he said, he wasn't the greatest judge of character.

She glanced at him sideways, mischievous smirk in place like they shared some kind of secret he wasn't aware of (did arm holding signify something special? He'd have to look it up later) and she opened her mouth to say something, maybe to share the secret, but another voice interrupted her.

"Hey Dustin!"

It called out so suddenly that Dustin jerked again, jolting Tori enough to make her lose her balance. He steadied her before she could meet her dusty fate, frowning apologetically and averting his eyes in wait of the inevitable tongue lashing that was to come. Instead he received another joy-to-the-world laugh and a reassuring squeeze to his shoulder before she re-looped their arms and turned to face their incoming visitor, red shirt recognizable to Dustin anywhere.

Shane jogged up to them quickly, slowing to a walk as soon as he came upon them, somehow communicating with Tori that they should move on (which Dustin completely missed) and soon they were all moving again as though it were the most natural thing in the world, thoroughly confusing Dustin, though he tried his best not to show it.

"Careful," Tori joked, good humor easily contagious, "he's jumpy."

Which Dustin couldn't really argue because at this point he had yet to demonstrate otherwise, but he still didn't understand the laughter that followed. He joined in anyway because these two people were probably the best people in the world (aside from Kelly, and Liv) and he kind've just wanted them to like him enough so they wouldn't mind him breathing the same air as them and possibly be in their vicinity whenever he could manage it. They didn't pick up on the forced laugh, which Dustin saw as immense progress, and he boldly decided to take some initiative as a reward.

Kind of like a verbal Scooby snack, or something.

"Hi Shane," he timidly forced out, sharing the name of their new arrival with Tori, because sharing was caring. But he forgot that Shane had never introduced himself, as least, to _him_, so instead of increased happiness the dark-haired teen just kind've looked at him oddly, tilting his head, and Dustin had to search in desperation for an explanation while his cheeks lit up like the Fourth of July.

"Kelly told me," he eventually managed, taking a sudden fascination in the trees around them, waiting for Shane to declare him a stalker and call him out on his creepy Skate Park spying (come to think of it he _might_ have been holding his magazine upside down) but instead Shane's response sounded happy, and Dustin risked a peek in his direction.

"Yeah," Shane laughed, shaking his head, "that lady is _so_ cool."

This somehow perked Tori's interest, and soon she was staring at Shane intently, kind've making Dustin want to pull her away a little bit.

"Kelly?" She said, turning back to Dustin for confirmation who was totally _not_ getting ready to 'accidentally' jerk her arm again. "Like, Storm Chargers, Kelly?"

"Yeah," Dustin replied, not-caught in the act he didn't do, "she's my boss."

Tori instantly lit up, boggling Dustin's mind with the sudden amount of wonder and amazement aimed his way.

"You are so lucky, I love Storm Chargers, they have all the best gear!"

Before Dustin could think of a coherent response, Shane cut in, sharing her enthusiasm but in the much more subdued, cool guy way.

"I know, right? Dude," he began, looking over at Dustin slyly, "You have the best job ever."

"…Thanks," Dustin replied, scratching the back of his head, bashful. He had pretty much prepared himself to be more of a tag along to this duo, following their conversations without really contributing, and this new focus was starting to freak him out a bit.

Tori, the blessed, blessed woman she was, seemed to pick up on this (it was a secret girl-sense, it had to be) and stepped in for him, changing the conversation.

"Hi," she chirped, sticking her free hand out to Shane, "I'm Tori."

"Shane," the skater replied, all smiles, and Dustin had to fight the urge to stupidly reintroduce himself to two people who already knew his name, a fact that was still somewhat bothersome to him.

Tori, abnormally peppy for some basic self-defense classes, echoed her question from earlier, asking Shane if he was _"super excited"_ to which he shrugged (because he was too cool to exert anymore effort than that) and replied that he was more interested in seeing what Victor was going to do. Before she could ask who Victor was, because by the look on her face she had no idea (and Dustin would know, he was the master of confused faces) a soft coughing interrupted them and Teagan, fresh back from delivering the last batch of kids, began to lead them down to the school, joyfully making small talk and being far too pleased with the fact Dustin was near other people, going so far as to send him a small wink.

He spent the rest of the walk in silence, partly because Teagan was going back to freaking him out and partly because listening to Shane and Tori talk was comforting in a strange way. The walk ended faster than he wanted it to, leading them into a courtyard-like thing that was shadowed by this monstrous building that was straight out of a Dynasty Warrior game. Tori nudged his arm playfully, smiling at his awe.

Teagan officially went back on the no-love list when she instructed them to split up into groups according to their teachers (and of _course_ neither Shane nor Tori were with him). Dustin wasn't entirely sure how he was supposed to feel about the fact that most of his group consisted of girls (except for this on other guy that attempted to pull Dustin into a high-five, but the mechanic didn't see anything that warranted that _and_ he was a complete stranger, so he opted to leave him hanging). They were all chattering and bubbly and strangely sociable but so…_un_-Tori like that they went straight on the freakout list, and he spent his time pretending to be as still and unapproachable as possible.

As expected, Shane and Tori were not encountering the same difficulties as him. Shane seemed to fit right into his group, backslapping and elbowing and joking easily, probably sharing war stories about Victor. Tori slid in just as effortlessly, though her group differed in communication strategies. They chose to huddle in small groups, discussing whatever they discussed in a reverent and dignified fashion. Like Dustin, Tori was one of the few of her gender in her group, not that she seemed all that bothered by the situation.

He wondered why they were separated in groups, and if he'd ever get to hang out with Shane again.

Before he could further ponder the helplessness of his situation (he could _still_ back out, no one was going to hunt him down if he didn't show up tomorrow) a hush fell over the crowd. Dustin pulled his eyes off of the ground in time to see an old dude (well, not _super_ old, but he was probably forty or something, which was still kind've old) walk up onto this elevated platform/stage thing that was in front of them. He was all serious but not hard-core serious, his eyes still seemed happy. It was more like the seriousness was a requirement of the job he had to put up with in order to be in charge. Or, Dustin assumed he was in charge, he couldn't really think of any other reason for him to be wearing all those robe/dress things.

And the hat, the hat was like, minus five fashion points, even _Dustin_ could see that.

Speaking of clothes, somewhere between Dustin beginning his staring contest with his feet and In-charge man's entrance, Teagan (and Victor, and some other dude with blond hair Dustin assumed was another teacher) had changed into these…he had no idea how to describe them. The closest thing he could come up with was ninja gear, because they were dressed in this all black leather-ish material. They had robes too, but they were shorter, with matching pants and boots and gauntlet things. They looked incredibly awesome, but the whole thing put Dustin on edge because when he took Karate the fanciest outfit he got was a set of glorified pajamas.

Was this where they made their money? Making them purchase flashy getups?

Before he could wonder what the price range of their ensembles were, In-charge man decided to get a move on (perhaps to distract them from possible scamming).

"Welcome students," he began, face friendly and approachable but still somehow reverent, "to the Wind Ninja Academy."

While Dustin mentally celebrated (he _knew_ they looked like ninjas) the rest of the students, who were not so quick to pick up on those details, instantly began murmuring among themselves, bothered by the altered title (there was no "ninja" on their pamphlet, though why that was Dustin didn't know, he would have totally been on board for Ninja School).

Well, all except Tori's group, those guys seemed more bothered by the fact everyone _else_ was bothered.

Head-man held up a silencing hand, and the unrest immediately died down. Though this didn't change the fact that Shane's group looked like it was about to hit the road.

"I have recently become aware," he began again, focusing on the predominantly red-clothed group, "that not all of my teachers were completely honest when recruiting." He paused and glanced sideways at Teagan and Victor quickly (the blond guy excluded and looking incredibly smug).

"I assume," he picked up again, this time addressing Dustin's group, "that this was to guarantee your participation, and while their intent was honorable, their actions were _not_."

Teagan had the decency to look slightly abashed, but Victor carried on with a bored expression, standing straight with his arms locked behind his back. Were In-charge man able to, he would have probably rolled his eyes, but he was in charge of keeping twenty kids from cutting and running. Tori's group seemed perfectly fine, and Dustin envied their know-how, so he kept focused on the real problem and moved on.

"Allow me to clarify their misdirections, this," he opened his arms, motioning to the building and courtyards around them, "Is the Wind Ninja Academy. For centuries we have remained hidden from society, passing down the teachings of earth, water, and air ninjas. You few have been selected by the teachers standing before you because of your aptitude towards your particular element." He had to stop there because the murmuring had started up again, except this time it was more of a dull roar, and a few students actually did make to leave. Dustin nervously clutched his backpack as he watched Tori and Shane with intent, torn between following her calm collectedness or his immediate retreat for self-preservation.

In-Charge man, prepared for this reaction, sent Victor a steady look, nodding his head slowly. The stoic teacher interpreted this silent communication, replying with a brief nod of his own, and then suddenly the world around Dustin turned into a whirlwind of noise and leaves.

He wasted a few seconds staring stupidly before he realized it actually _was_ a whirlwind, in the most literal of ways, air currents spinning around the three separate groups and herding them together, pulling in the few strays that had managed to get away. If there was shouting or yelling he didn't hear it, his ears were filled with the overpowering sound of a tornado, winds blowing through his already wild hair and threatening to knock him off his feet.

It died down as quickly as it started, with nothing but drifting leaves and the student's disheveled appearances as proof the incident ever happened. Before any of them could manage to demand what was going on, In-Charge nodded over to Teagan, and the show continued.

She was moving her arms forcefully, punching up from the ground like there was an invisible monster there for her to fight. Only, instead of good old-fashioned _nothing_ happening, the earth (or the dirt, or rocks or whatever was near her) began shifting up out of the ground, stalagmites bursting through in sporadic patterns before being pulled back into the soil, returning to its home.

Dustin rubbed his eyes slowly, glancing back and forth at the other students in his group because at the end of the nothing that should have happened, when Teagan was pulling down her arms, he could _almost_ swear he saw something. There was a flash…only, not bright and sudden like a flash on a camera, it was more like a glow. It was like a golden wave that kind of dangled…or tangled around her arms, twisting down her legs back into the earth.

For a moment, when the stalagmites were receding and everything was turning back to normal, there was like this…pulse, of that gold, circling out from Teagan, like it was covering all the…dirt or something. Dustin stared at his feet quickly, watching to see if it would affect any of them, but it just…moved on.

When he glanced back up his group mates were still staring at the front in wonder, gaping at the places the stalagmite had been. He got this nagging feeling that someone was staring at him, and when he was brave enough, he risked a look forward, meeting the eyes of the head Sensei. He didn't call him out on seeing the gold wave thing, but he knew, somehow, that Dustin had seen it.

That Dustin had felt it.

He nodded slowly, and then returned his attention to the babbling students, all pouring forth an avalanche of questions. He held up his hand for silence, and they immediately quiet down, now eagerly awaiting his words.

"My name is Kanoi, I am the head Sensei. From this day forward you will surpass all normal expectations and train to be extraordinary." He paused, and the sternness faded away into a mostly concealed playfulness. "That is, if you still desire to train here. Are there any who object?"

As expected, nobody did.

That was the day Dustin's life slowly began to turn around.

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><p>Endnotes:<p>

The end

Of this chapter.

Shout out's to Rogue Ranger and ValkyrieNyght for your reviews! I know last chapter felt a little unnecessary, but I wanted to establish their three different voices.

Huh, I guess Tori's family _is_ rich. I didn't even notice that, but yeah, it makes perfect sense.

Funny anecdote: my sister was beta-ing this (for those who don't know, she knows almost nothing about this series; she didn't even know what the characters looked like until today). She thought it was funny that they taught air, wind, and water ninja stuff without teaching fire. If you have those three, you might as well go with the fourth.

I say they just don't trust the kids not to burn their houses down.

I've been throwing out a lot of one shots lately, and I began writing this chapter a couple weeks ago, so I finally got off my lazy butt and finished it, for your viewing pleasure.

Until next time.


	8. Ride

Chapter 8

Ride

The long awaited installment that didn't quite take a year to come into existence!

I'm considering this one a win.

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><p>So…things had gone somewhat differently than Shane had anticipated they would.<p>

He assumed this entire self defense program would simply end up being a resume padder or something for the colleges to appreciate when looking over his applications (not that the bar was going to be set very high for where he planned to go) so the whole _"surprise, it's a secret ninja school"_ thing was actually a very nice turn of events. At least, as far as he was concerned.

The clothes though…yeah, they could suck less. As soon as everyone's participation was guaranteed (they weren't _stupid_, who passed up a chance to learn wind magic or whatever?) they were herded into separate dojos based on gender and given these not-so-wonderful tan robe things. Victor informed them that they had to work their way up to the ninja gear for they were far too _"incompetently stupid" _to receive them now. The other guy, Ian, some kid said, stepped in after that, patting their egos and compensating for Victor's lack of social skills.

Until they were proficient with at least the basics of manipulating their element they would have to be stuck in the ugly pajamas.

Well, at least they got pants. So _there_ was a plus. Shane probably wouldn't have stuck around if they weren't allowed to have pants. Magic powers or not, that kind of thing was only the preamble to what was assuredly unhappiness.

Awkward clothes aside, it was a pretty good beginning. It was followed by some less-than-fabulous training montages of the teachers whipping them into basic shape (they needed a "solid jumping off point" before they could start learning the fun stuff) that led to many an exhausted night, limbs sore, heavy, and abused.

Yet somehow, Shane couldn't be happier.

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Dustin had yet to decide if he was a happy camper or not. This was mostly because he was too exhausted to give it much thought (five mile training runs were becoming an early morning staple, along with what Victor lovingly referred to as light PT which was anything _but_ light) but even if he _had_ the energy, he still wouldn't be sure if he was satisfied with the happenings of his world.

The nice thing about ninja school (yeah, he got to say that now, his life was _that_ awesome) was that he was actually sort of good at it. Sure, all the students were in pretty good shape to begin with, but Teagan and the other senseis were pushing them to like, ridiculous extents. It would be more scary, or intimidating maybe, but instead of freaking out every time they threw some outrageous demand his way (like one hundred push ups or no lunch for you) Dustin would just, like, do it. Which was the point, but still. He would think about it for the first few so he could do them the best he could, but then he'd zone out and before he knew it, _bam_, one hundred push ups, like nothing. It helped that Teagan paired them up to be counters for each other, otherwise Dustin probably would have had to start over at least ten times because he never kept track.

Not that he was the best at everything. Ninja History (which sounded interesting but was about as boring as normal history was) took great pleasure in kicking his butt almost _every day_. They were even supposed to write essays in class (because it wasn't like they had access to this information at home) and he was pretty sure he failed just about all of them at this point. He also had a nasty habit of falling asleep during the classes on meditation (because five mile runs and all that) and Teagan always chose to wake him up by asking him some question he never knew the answer to. In her defense, it could have been about something he actually knew and he still would have frozen up on the spot.

Yeah, he and public speaking still weren't the best of friends.

Despite his efforts, Dustin hadn't gotten a chance to see Tori or Shane again because of their different groupings (Tori with the water students and Shane with the air). They wouldn't get beyond the small groups until July, and that was only a maybe, so the odds of him seeing them again were low. Teagan had informed them that eventually they would be broken down into teams of three, with one student from each element group, and Dustin had no idea what the selection process _was_ for that but he hoped beyond hope that he'd get put with Shane and Tori. Or just one of them, he wasn't picky. He just wanted to talk to them again.

The patheticness of this hope was something he had decided to ignore.

Outside of class, he only knew where Shane liked to hang out, and he wasn't sure about them, but Dustin was always too tired after classes were over to even think about doing anything else. He hadn't been to the track in weeks and Kelly kept having to wake him up during his shifts at Storm Chargers. She was always understanding, even supportive, but it was hard to think about other stuff while becoming accustomed to ninja training.

Even important stuff, like remembering to put gas in your bike, which was something Dustin discovered he _hadn't_ done until he was driving home down a certain cliff-side road and his bike rolled to a stop and refused to get going again.

Gas, right, he had written it down on his hand to remember, and but then he spilled oil at the shop and he must have washed it off in _that_ mess and-_nertz_, he was going to have to start pushing.

At least he wouldn't forget to fill up again in the near future.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

Okay, so there was a chance it would happen again. But he wouldn't forget _three __times_.

Dustin was in the middle of trying to figure out how long it would take to get home when a van pulled up beside him (stranger danger immediately going off in his mind because he had paid attention during those presentations in middle school) and he looked up in time to see Tori, still as bright and cheerful as ever, happily wave at him.

He had forgotten how pretty she was.

"Out of gas?"

_Breathe Dustin, you petrified klutz. Just because fate decided to deal you a nice hand doesn't mean you should do something stupid._

Right.

Not being stupid would be _totally_ easy.

It wasn't until a few seconds later that the brunette had actually processed what she said, with being so busy trying not to stare, but doing it anyway, and then going for eye contact, and then remembering he sucked at that so he quickly put his eyes to the ground and gave a jerked nod. Nods were good, nods he could handle.

Despite his spazzitude, Tori didn't seem all that affected by his minor dilemma, and giggled, amused but not vindictive. It was the nice kind of amused (because sadly there _was_ an unpleasant amused that Dustin was familiar with), the one that the mechanic didn't see all that often that didn't take cruel pleasure in life's misfortunes. More specifically, _his_ misfortunes.

He hoped he wasn't imagining it, or conjuring it up out of pathetic neediness, but Tori somehow got him. She understood, sort of, or at least recognized Dustin had some problems socializing (maybe, or maybe he was just reading into this too much, and he could be because it was like, _him_). And instead of picking him apart about it, or rubbing his face in it, she just sort of… went with the flow.

Saying that he liked that about her would be such a ridiculous understatement that it physically pained him to think it, and then he knew he was a special kind of doomed, seeing as he had come to this conclusion after only two interactions with her, one of which consisted of _one_ question.

He had rules for a reason; he had _kept_ to those rules for a reason, but with Tori…

He could hope, one more time right? He could manage that.

Having probably expected more of an answer, Tori tried again, tapping her fingers idly against the edge of the window. "Need a lift?"

Well, yes, but he hadn't expected to get one.

Before he could reply, Tori was already getting out of her van, walking around and throwing open the back doors. She leaned in, tossed some towels onto the middle seat and pushed a surfboard to the side (surfer chick, yeah, he could see that,) to make room for his bike. Cleaning done, she paused, looking over her shoulder with eyebrows raised, as though she were wondering why he hadn't caught up with her yet (and he knew why, disbelief was still coursing through his veins). Thankfully Dustin's body went on auto pilot and pushed his bike forward. Between the two of them they got it loaded into the van, along with the rest of Dustin's gear.

His mind was trying to remind him of that one time he thought she could be a psycho killer (that one time being the _only_ other time), that he shouldn't really put his bike into stranger's vans and be held at their mercy, but they were both in secret ninja school together so he figured there was a little bit of kinship there right? They were bonded by silence and five mile runs and boring history lessons, so she probably didn't want bad things to happen to him. Ian (that was the water guy, Dustin may or may not have been dropping some eaves) wouldn't have picked her if she were secretly crazy right? Crazy people probably wouldn't be a good choice for passing on traditions/protecting the innocent.

It was time to trust his gut; Tori was fine, he would be fine, this car ride was nothing to worry about.

Everything would be okay.

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Tori did most of the talking, which was good, because Tori was much better at talking than Dustin and didn't seem too upset with holding a one-sided conversation. It wasn't that she wouldn't listen, because she did, the few times that Dustin _did_ talk, but it was that…that "getting him" thing in action. She filled in the space he couldn't, and when he was ready, she gave him the floor.

It was depressing to think that this behavior was unique and new to him, maybe this was how all people acted and he had just gotten stuck with the upchuck of civilization or something. Or maybe she was just rare. He had always thought those other girls seeking out pity cases were nice too, but they weren't, they weren't genuine like Tori. They were plastic, fake. Dustin almost felt bad for comparing her to Barbie, because that wasn't really Tori's style.

Then again, he was basing this off of basically nothing, so he didn't have a lot of background information to make assumptions like that. People (decent people) helped each other out all the time. They smiled when they said good morning and complimented people's bikes and remembered their names. There wasn't anything special about it, it wasn't as monumental as he thought it was, it was just, basic interactions and stuff.

When Tori dropped him off Dustin tried not to feel bitter about it, tried to remind himself it wasn't special. He wasn't special.

Nothing out of the ordinary about this, it was just an average exercise in human decency. He shouldn't focus on it.

That didn't mean he wouldn't; he just, shouldn't.

Because Tori probably wouldn't.

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It turned out that Dustin _did_ forget a second time. Apparently his run-in with Tori hadn't improved his memory that much, or maybe it had, and he was just hoping subconsciously that if he ran out of gas again she would show up. Which didn't really make any sense, but in the end it didn't really matter, because he still ended up pushing.

Well, he probably wouldn't forget a _fourth_ time. Ninja training couldn't leave him that tired. Or stupid. He couldn't be getting dumber, right?

_Pff,_ it was him, there was _always_ room for improvement in that particular department. Pushing his bike home would teach him a lesson.

Okay… maybe these classes were making him be a little bit harder on himself. It was just- his group was so…smiley, and he just _wasn't_. He knew it and they knew it and they kept sending him these questioning looks like, if he was so un-them why was he there? And if he couldn't talk why was he there? And if he sucked at essays and-

His pushups won him some points back, but it wasn't doing a lot for his peace of mind.

Maybe he should quit.

He didn't hear the van roll up, so it wasn't until Tori honked the horn that he noticed her, smiling as pleasantly as she always was. At least, the two times he'd seen her.

"You really need to remember to refill your tank."

Which was true, but still-

It riled him. As much as he could be riled while talking to someone he was a little obsessed over, and still be shy, and tired and-

"I didn't mean to forget," he said, defensive. "It's just," he motioned in the direction of the school, trying to het his point across. "It's hard."

He rubbed the side of his head, looking down as he added in a lower voice, "I get tired."

When he looked up again the driver seat was empty, which freaked him out (because holy crap what if evil ninjas stole her or something?) until she appeared beside him, having gotten out of the van in the silence he had used to pity himself.

Oh. Well, at least someone was using their time wisely.

He wondered why she was still there.

Tori reached over and pat his arm, one hand rested against the handle of his bike.

"Yeah," she said, not affected by his tone. "I know what you mean."

She gave a wry smile. "Guess I can't really rag on you, seeing as I keep falling asleep when I'm taking a bath."

What was she…?

Oh, being tired. Yes.

Dustin cringed, realizing what she said. "_Eh_, baths."

Baths were _boring_. And also, stupid.

It was Tori's turn to be defensive, but she only did it lightly, crossing her arms across her chest in mock anger. "There's nothing wrong with baths."

Apparently his mouth decided to get a bit proactive anyway, and he surprised himself by scoffing.

"Says the water ninja."

Whatever panic he had was kept under wraps, waiting at the result of his spontaneous comment, and Tori, after a moment of surprise, gave a pleased smile.

"Not yet." She said, pointing a finger at him. "But soon."

He couldn't find any fault with that logic.

He was pretty sure that wasn't the entire reason she offered him a lift home, but he thought that it helped.

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The drive home was about as pleasant as the first time, maybe a little more because Dustin was freaking out slightly less. It was nice though. Tori kept up the conversation, complaining about being outnumbered by guys and their foolish behavior, and Dustin totally knew what she meant because he didn't understand what most of the girls in his group were talking about _ever_. It was like a foreign language was going on over there, and foreign priorities and complaints and jokes and-

He didn't know what was going on half the time.

When the van pulled up to his house, Tori turned to face him, thoughtful look in place. "You know what we should do?"

No, he had no idea, but he hoped it wasn't something that involved killing people. He would really hate to be wrong about the not-psycho killer thing. Especially after she had given him two rides. Then he would be like, indebted, or something. He would _have_ to take part in the psycho killing.

Curse his forgetfulness.

It must have been a retrical…retotopical…oh, rhetorical - that was it - question, because Tori didn't wait for his response. "We should carpool."

That sounded _much_ better than going off to do some psycho killing.

_Then again, maybe that was something you asked for after the _**_third_**_ ride._

_Okay subconscious, you are not helping._

Dustin blinked, opting to ignore the voices in the back of his head. "I only have one helmet."

He could probably get one for her too, so he guessed it wasn't that much of a problem, but…

Tori gave him a confused blink in return (check it, they were bonding), then shook her head. "No, I mean you're on my way to the academy, why don't I just drive you there? Then you wouldn't have to worry about forgetting to gas up your bike."

Because _she_ remembered to gas up her van. But he couldn't remember to gas up his bike, because he was stupid.

_Stop it_.

It made sense, it was a reasonable (and very generous and ridiculously kind) idea, but he was scared to take her up on her offer. He had been enticed by generous and reasonable ideas before.

Dustin didn't want to say that Tori noticed his dilemma, even if she did, because it was scary someone knew him that well, even if he hadn't really spoken to her.

"Come on," she said. "I don't bite." She put on a mostly-serious face, suppressing a smile like she was sharing a joke with him. "I promise I'll keep my hands to myself."

_Unless the urge to psycho-kill strikes_.

Seriously.

Are. _Not_. Helping.

Dustin wanted to say yes, he _needed_ to say yes, yes should be the next word out of his mouth, but instead he asked, "Why?"

Which kind of surprised both of them.

The smile dropped off Tori's face. "What?"

She was confused he didn't immediately jump at her offer. Well, the brunette was too. But that wasn't going to stop him.

Dustin managed to buck up and find a little more courage, because he needed to know.

"Why are you so nice?" He paused, because that wasn't exactly right. "Well, to me, specifically."

It wasn't like he'd done anything to deserve it.

"You're different than the others," she explained, smiling fondly.

His immediate reaction was to agree, because yeah, he _was_ different, but different in a sucky way so _why_ would that be a plus?

The gist of this must read across his face because she laughed.

"No, like-" She smiled, and he felt a little wierded out on how much she was focusing on him. "You look me in the eye when I'm talking."

Yeah, that was debatable. He gave her a disbelieving face, because he always _tried_ to look her in the eye when he was talking, but only managed that like, forty percent of the time. So his success rate was less than half of the time, which meant her 'eye contact' reason was not really supported.

In other words, he called bs.

Tori laughed again, amused by his silent communications, and explained herself. "You don't stare at my chest."

Was he supposed to?

He asked before he thought about it. "Why would I want to…?"

She laughed again, and he totally didn't pout because she knew these things and saw these things that he didn't.

"See," she said. "This is what I mean." And then she made up for all her makes-no-sense-laughter with a fond smile that made him feel more accomplished than it really should.

"You're different," she repeated. "But good-different."

So his quiet and not-staring and spazzing and not-understanding…that was a plus in her book? It was actually working in his favor?

If he had to describe the feeling bubbling up in his chest, Dustin would have to say it was an odd combination of hope and victory.

He tried not to get too excited, and worked it out so they would both be on the same page. "So if I don't look at your chest…you'll keep being nice to me?"

Those were probably the best rules _ever_.

The look on her face gave him the feeling he _might_ have missed the point a bit, but instead of arguing with him she just shrugged, accepting his proposal.

"Sure."

That hope and victory mixed in a new wave of excitement, and Dustin had to fight not to start bouncing in his seat with all the excess energy building up.

"I can do that," he declared, smiling brightly. "Okay," he said, and reached forward to shake her hand. "I'll carpool with you."

If his antisocial, awkwardness made Tori happy, him smiling sent her over the freaking moon, and she returned his shake enthusiastically.

"Alright!" she said, smiling. "See you bright and early okay? Tomorrow morning, eight thirty."

Dustin nodded and got out of the car, giving her another smile before he shut the door. "I'll be there."

He could handle that.

He could handle that _awesomely_.

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Preparation for Tori's arrival received the same attention the first day of classes had been given; extra alarm clocks, clothes already set out, bag packed, the works. He even figured out how to use the coffee maker, using two of those cardboard to-go cups Liv was so fond of to prepare a kind of gesture of goodwill. Or something. He wasn't sure how you were supposed to fix coffee though, he had never liked it, so he just dumped a bunch of milk and sugar into them and hoped for the best.

Tori pulled up at 8:28, and Dustin slung on his backpack and grabbed the cups, making his way towards her van.

Early was good. Early meant she wasn't late and late meant-

Late could mean that she had forgotten him. But it was Tori, the one who remembered to put gas in her van and didn't treat him like a freak, and she _did_ remember him.

It was a nice way to start the morning.

Dustin felt good enough to take the initiative to actually start a conversation, smiling as the climbed in the van. "I brought coffee."

The smell pretty much explained itself, but he wasn't going to let something like that kill his buzz.

She smiled, but her brows were crooked in- was she disappointed? Had he done something wrong? It had only been like two seconds, how could he have-?

"Thanks Dustin. But I-" she motioned to the cups. "I don't really like coffee." But then she smiled, to let him know she was okay. "I'm more of a tea girl myself. With lots of honey."

She shifted the van into drive and pulled away from the curb, drumming her fingers against the wheel. "You can have mine if you want."

Oh…well, that was where things got awkward. He had only brought his so she wouldn't feel alone. You know, so they could bond some more. He had planned to just fake-sip his.

He probably could have done that anyway, which was an idea he wouldn't figure out until later, but for the moment he went with the first thing that came to mind.

"I don't like coffee either."

Because honesty was a good policy.

This confession happened to coincide with a red light, and Tori took that time to send him a confused look because then, hey, why the two coffees?

Right.

He shrugged, trying not to freak out.

"It's what they do on all the shows right? At least, the cop ones. They meet up and drink coffee and get ready for a hard days work and I figured, you know, we're ninjas, so that's _kind've_ close right?"

_Oh god, that sounded stupider out loud._

Why did he bring coffee?

Dustin wondered if he was going to have to walk home.

After a thoughtful silence (that Dustin hadn't known was thoughtful, his mind was busy with other things), Tori nodded her head and laughed. "I guess that works."

She smiled and risked a look at him, taking her eyes off the road. "But we're not ninjas _yet_, remember?"

Yeah, yeah, he remembered.

And he was really glad she was choosing to focus on that part.

"Yeah," he said. "You're right."

Bullet dodged.

Victory granted.

Two in a row, things were really looking up for him.

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The next day he brought her tea with lots of honey. He stuck to hot chocolate though. Hey, when you've got a good horse you've got to ride it right?

And- oh yeah, he didn't have to walk home either.

He also didn't have to worry about gas anymore.

Which was all kinds of cool.

On top of that, decent-human-being-who-willingly-spends-time-with- him thing.

Yeah, all _kinds_ of cool.

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><p>Endnotes:<p>

So…nine months, really? Well, it _could_ have taken longer. Sorry guys, but thanks for bugging me enough to post again. Got me to remember where I had left off.

Shane's part was written during the summer, everything else was recent (as in the Dustin angsty/spazzy/what's-going-on-y goodness).

I'll try not to let this story slide off my radar again.

I make no promises, but at least I have a fair amount of ideas that you guys inspired. Yeah, that was one Marketing class I didn't take notes for.

Alright my lovelies, thanks to Rogue, RayneLover101, Valkyrie, KrazeeeeeeeKatieeeeeeeee, and SoraAbarai for reviewing last chapter! I hope this one lived up to the nine month build of anticipation. I'm sorry it was there. Again.

Sorry.

Oh, also, did not mean to infer that teenage boys are horndogs, it just seemed like a funny line.

Until next time.


	9. Small Talk

Chapter 9

Small Talk

Much love and adoration to my beta, the real vampire, for putting up with my silly misusage of words. And commas. And grammar in general.

My world is a better place thanks to you : )

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><p>The downside to being taught a multitude of secret and super effective ways to beat the snot out of someone's face was that, inevitably, <em>your<em> face would be the one educated on just _how_ painful each face-smashing technique was. Shane got lucky in that Victor greatly encouraged swift and painful counter attacks to defend your face's honor. He was unlucky in that he always gave as good as he got, and then some. As did _most_ of the air students. Which…probably led to some of the problems they were encountering.

Shane wasn't sure how much of this excessive brutality derived from ancient ninja tradition, in toughening them up and preparing them for the world's hardships, and how much of it was a result of Victor's absolute glee for ordering his "minions" to do violence. At this point, the air ninja-in-training was leaning towards the second option. Victor looked just a little…too _satisfied_ for it not to.

The toughening thing though, that had to be a bonus.

Of course, eventually it would get to the point where all the air students were too occupied with being miserable piles of _pain_ to actually keep fighting, and then Victor would pout and someone would try to throw a pathetic glare his way and then they'd moan and there would be a collective heave of sympathetic murmurs. And then Victor would threaten to throw water on them if they didn't get with the program, which would inevitably lead to him stalking off to find Ian because that sort of business was "_To be outsourced_ _damnit"_, and _that_ would buy the air-students at least half an hour of downtime because Ian always refused to encourage Victor's ill-treatments.

Because of this, Ian _might_ have created a sect within the air-group that had secretly sworn their undying allegiance to him.

They had their own handshakes and everything.

Eventually, and Shane was almost sure of this, Victor was going to have sprinklers put in and they would all succumb to a watery death because they were so tired and moving just_ wasn't worth it. _

Sometimes Teagan would be really nice and insist that the air and earth students train together (but she knew, and Victor knew, it was just so she could keep the air teacher reigned in so his students wouldn't all end up dead) and they could all enjoy a nice afternoon _not_ in indescribable amounts of pain. Because Victor's cure for aching bones and bruised muscles usually involved scaling cliffs or lots of sit ups or hanging from a tree by your ankles and untying the ropes holding you in place before the blood rushed out of your skull. And if by chance you failed to do so Victor would simply stand there and laugh at you. Sadly, this was as strong a motivator as it sounded.

At this point, Shane's favorite part of training was when they worked on stealth. Basically Victor would split them into two teams and give one team different objectives (either get from point A to point B or hide for X amount of minutes without being detected or sneak up on _this_ person _here_) and the other team was in charge of locating the "hiding" team. Stealth exercises carried on until every member of the "hiding" team was found so suffice it to say, yeah, they got really good at stealthing. The more time they spent doing _that_, the less time spent mourning the loss of feeling in their limbs.

As crazy as it sounded, despite the repeated beat-downs, Shane was actually quite happy with the way things had turned out. Ninja training had given him something that was just…it was _his_. He could do this. He could run and learn katas and get his face punched in and hide and he could do it with a crazy, violence-seeking, peanut-butter-fanatic of a teacher and a bunch of other maniacs who enjoyed doing the same thing.

Shane _liked_ the secrecy. He liked the camaraderie that came from it. He liked flopping down on the ground, aching in just about every place imaginable and looking at the guy beside him, who he would have probably never met if it wasn't for ninja school, and laughing at the pure insanity of it all.

It was during one of these such moments that Shane came upon a startling discovery. Or maybe it wasn't really a discovery, more like a remembrance because it wasn't like he _hadn't_ known it.

It happened near the end of the day, with Victor stomping off _somewhere_ to find some damn water buckets because "_They were the biggest babies _**_ever_**_" _(a token protest: they all knew they were done for the day; all that was left was to motivate themselves to get up and change and maybe even, dare he think it, _leave_) and a pleasant kind of not-so-painful chatter had settled over them.

See, they were improving. Just a week ago they wouldn't have been able to hold conversations that didn't purely consist of pitiful moaning.

"I think it makes sense," Derrick (and this was all Shane knew about him; just his name and his hair color and that he had a nasty right hook) was saying. "They divide us up by element, but it's not just that. Like, each element group, we're different."

"I get that," Dean replied, somewhere off to Shane's right (who the air student _did_ know; fellow skater, beat Shane about eighty percent of the time at competitions but did not win at sparring and Shane _was not_ all kinds of proud of this fact). "It's like our elements require different kinds of behavior."

"No, no," and Derrick was very adamant about this. "It's more like our characteristics are different. Not our behavior."

"What the hell's the difference?" Dean scoffed.

Shane helpfully filled in for Derrick. "Characteristics _affect_ our behavior."

"Exactly," and Derrick gave Shane a wicked grin, like he was glad someone else got it.

The skater responded with a tired smile in return. He liked Derrick; he was one of the smarter guys and his quips usually made training go by a lot faster.

_That's it, ten points to Derrick._

"What I'm saying," Derrick continued, surprisingly enthused for someone who had run, at the very least, fifteen miles that day. "Is like, the water students are all calm and poised and-"

"The brains," someone off to Shane's far left replied. He wasn't sure who. It could have been Kevin.

Kevin was a smartass.

"Sure," Derrick replied, undeterred. "And we're the muscle. The take-charge guys, right?"

"Clearly," someone mumbled sarcastically. Again, probably Kevin.

Shane could understand the sarcasm, being that none of them could do much take-charging right now if it didn't involve passing out.

Derrick swatted in his direction. "And the Earth students, they're all happy and optimistic and-"

"They're the _fee-liiings_," Kevin muttered in a sing-song voice, sending a ripple of laughter across the mass of fallen air-ninja students.

"Right!" Derrick replied because clearly, that was where he was going. "And they put us all into teams to make _balance-_"

"What about that one guy?" Dean asked, covering his eyes with the back of his hand as the sunlight shone through the tree branches.

"You mean Dustin?" Shane asked, just to clarify. Not that it was necessary; they'd all known who Dean had meant. They had trained with the earth students too many times not to. It was like the easiest game of_ "One of these things is not like the other"_ (and clearly this was the case or Dean wouldn't have gotten it).

Shane remembered that day back at Storm Chargers, the sort of awkwardness of it all. Dustin was…he was just quiet. Kept to himself. And while there wasn't anything _wrong_ with that, it was just so different from all the other earth ninjas that it was baffling. They couldn't help thinking that he didn't belong there because…well, clearly he didn't.

And Shane had felt a little bad for that. He felt…like, slightly overprotective of the guy, since he had brought him in and all.

"You _know_ him?" Dean asked, tone implying that Shane's knowledge meant Shane was less-awesome than he had previously demonstrated he was.

And Shane didn't like that.

"Dude," Shane mumbled, rolling his eyes. "I recruited him, and he's not so bad."

He wasn't. A little awkward, but Dustin wasn't _bad_.

Besides, Teagan had picked him out right? If the earth teacher wanted him, it was probably for a reason. Who were they to question that?

Of course, explanations like that usually didn't sit well with guys like Dean because it required _feelings_ and empathy and like, brain power, so Shane didn't bother attempting to reason with him.

It turned out for the best as Dean flopped his head in Shane's direction to stare incredulously. "You _recruited_ him? Why?"

Why else?

"Victor."

There was a collective _"oh"_ as understanding dawned on them, even from Dean, and the other skater shook it off, quickly changing the subject.

"Well anyway," Dean continued. "Did you _see_ the chick he hangs out with?"

_And…of course_.

See, Shane liked the air-students. At least, most of the time. Because eventually they would get to the point where they _weren't_ working their butts off to learn a new technique or conditioning their bodies or getting faster and stronger and trying to learn, learn, learn- They still had those moments where they remembered it was summer, and they were guys, and the overarching feel of May-June-July always left them restless, a need for freedom that school and family could never hope to provide. And being that they _were_ all guys there was _one_ thing that was a guaranteed unifier that they could all relate to and talk about that properly exercised that feeling of freedom.

Yeah, he was talking about girls.

"You mean Tori?" Shane asked, flashing back to that first day of training before his life had become a steady stream of bruises and exhaustion; a pair of blue eyes laughing beside those brown, timid ones. Just two more nondescript faces in a sea of average before Shane's life had been canon shot into backwards-land.

"_Dude_," Kevin said, thoroughly impressed with Shane's networking abilities, bringing the skater back to the present.

Shane shrugged. "What? I know people."

So it was two people, but it still counted.

"Right," Dean said absently, annoyed with their sidetracking. Probably because they weren't focusing on _him_. "Well they're like, best buds. They always leave together."

Shane failed to see why this was so important. "So?" he asked tiredly, trying to convince his body that sitting up _wouldn't_ be the worst thing in the world.

It wasn't an argument he was winning, but he found it comforting to at least try.

"_So_," Dean replied, emphasizing the word in an attempt to be super obnoxious and _for no other reason_. "There's no way she would be dating that Dustin guy."

"Still not following," Shane murmured.

He got it. Tori was a girl, she hung out with Dustin, it was all very exciting.

"_Pff_," Dean scoffed, because he reveled in his stupidity and thought he was proving some kind of point. "You wouldn't."

From off to the side Shane could hear Kevin sigh dreamily. "Man, I would give _anything_ to be on her team."

Derrick, who hadn't heard his voice in a while, decided this was a problem that must be rectified. "You know," he began helpfully. "That means you'll end up with a male earth ninja, and since she's just about _always_ with Dustin…"

Kevin didn't sound at all perturbed by this. "Dude, I'll take super hot with not-so-bad _any day_."

Shane sighed. Seriously, they had better things to think about. "You guys are lame."

Dustin _wasn't_ that bad. Shane wished they would stop treating him like some kind of dark cloud that Tori was getting dragged down by.

An acorn flew in his general direction, rebounding off the ground near his face; Kevin's attempt at teasing. "What, are you friends with him?"

This was stupid.

"What do you think?" Shane asked, partially curious. He wasn't, not really, but that didn't mean he shouldn't be a decent person. Like, that should be mandatory always.

"Smooth deflection," Derrick murmured, and Shane fought the urge to chuck the acorn at him. It wasn't that difficult though, seeing as _moving his arms_ was proving to be kind of a challenge.

They enjoyed a moment of quiet before Dean started to move into action, slowly uncurling and pushing himself off the ground, eyes aimed in the direction of the earth students who were breaking for the day.

Shane took a second to envy his movement while Derrick decided to speak up. "Where are you going?"

He did not like the look on the other teen's face.

Dean successfully managed to stay upright, swaying minutely before straightening up and popping his back as though he _hadn't_ accomplished some monumental feat of impossible strength, even though they all knew he had. Playing it off, he shrugged his shoulders and Shane didn't miss the momentary wobble that the action invoked.

"You losers can just keep hoping," he scoffed, starting to move towards the earth students. "But _I'm_ going to be proactive."

And based on their previous topic of conversation…

Not good. Not good at all. Dean was a good guy, but he was still kind've a lug and really gruff and him with a girl fixed in his sights plus a certain soft spot the girl obviously had…

Okay, Shane's body needed to start moving now. No more delaying, no more grumbling; important things were going down. Certain quiet, should-be-left-alone people were going to get poked at with sticks they really didn't deserve to be poked with. Shane should probably interfere. Scratch that, he was _going_ to interfere. You know, the decent person thing in effect and all that.

It was only added support that Dustin was Shane's like, recruitee and all that. It was totally justified for him to feel overprotective.

Yes, he was sure no one would disagree with this.

Back in the land of overworked air-students, Kevin attempted to shout one last closing remark. "You're going to be face wash?!"

Were groaning worth it, they would have exerted the energy, just so they could let Kevin know how greatly his punches surpassed his punch_lines_.

This, of course, was why they had Stan.

Shane heard the reserved teen-in-question sigh as he started the trial of getting off the ground.

"Dude," Stan murmured, just as calm and authoritative as usual. "That wasn't funny the first time you said it; still not funny now."

None of them were entirely positive what Stan's origins were. There was only the unanimous vote that he was Victor's favorite.

You know, birds of a feather and all that.

As he managed to successfully climb to his feet, Shane could imagine Kevin shaking his head sadly, as he often did whenever they shot him down.

"Everyone's a critic," he grumbled.

He was probably surprised by the amount of acorns that were chucked his way afterward. But he really shouldn't have been.

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Dustin had accepted the fact that ninja school was ridiculously unpredictable. He didn't like it because patterns and routine brought a certain kind of comfort in that they were difficult to screw up, but ninja school was about growing and being better than the sad heap of person you were _before_, so he was working on embracing this…unpredictableness. He had managed to find a happy middle-point though; some things he could latch onto to ground him in this massive storm of _this is now your life_ that was going on. Mostly it was just getting picked up by Tori, changing into training robes (they were going to learn quick changes later, at some point, when Teagan thought they could get through it without embarrassing themselves), lunch, changing back into normal-human clothes, and then driving home with Tori.

It was nice. It wasn't perfect, but it was _his_ and Dustin would stubbornly cling to his little moments of stability like a drowning person if he had to because it kept him from like…completely losing it, and if there was anything Dustin _didn't_ want more than being noticed by any of his fellow students (except for Tori; Tori was boss) was to go crazy-banana-pants because he couldn't do a silly thing like "adapting".

But so far he was good. So far he was great. So far he had his own little sub-routine inside the big deal that was always predictable, it was always constant and it wasn't intimidating and it made Dustin _very_ happy with how predictable and good and constant it was and-

It was thoughts like this that probably cursed his doom upon himself.

Of course, most people wouldn't consider a stranger/student talking to them doom, but this was Dustin, and Dustin was allowed to think such things because being noticed _wasn't fun_.

"Hey," air student number eight (yes, Dustin had numbered them, except Shane, who was…well, number Shane) said. "You're Dustin right?"

To which Dustin wanted to immediately reply with _"How do you know my name? Why are you bothering me? Is there a bounty out on my life?!"_ and then fling his water bottle at number eight because there was a fifty/fifty shot eight would get distracted or fall down (Dustin had seen how hard Victor worked those guys, it was practically arts and crafts kindergarten style with the earth students in comparison).

Fortunately (or not, Dustin would decide later) the earth student had practiced this "talking" thing enough times with Tori to figure out some more socially acceptable alternatives.

So instead of…well, what he wanted to do/say, Dustin stood a little taller, clutched onto his water bottle and said, "Yes."

And then he added, "Dustin Brooks."

Because it was true.

Look at him answering questions and _not_ getting freaked out/running away/hurling water bottles at people.

Okay, so maybe it didn't sound quite as monumental as it _was_, but Dustin deserved a freakin' plaque for attaining new levels of awesomeness. He might ask Tori to verify this later. He still wasn't sure if he could talk about those kinds of things with her yet. Not without like, consequences. (Like, _getting-kicked-out-of-the-car_ consequences).

Number eight was still smiling, broad and wide because apparently Dustin's answer was satisfactory and everything he was looking for because he was so cheerful, not bothered by…well, Dustin.

Well, that was nice.

"So," number eight replied, clapping the side of Dustin's arm. "I'm Dean."

His hand lingered for a second, probably to keep from toppling over, so Dustin didn't shake him off. Unfortunately he didn't know where to go from here; there were no more questions to be answered. Was this small talk? Were they doing small talk? Oh _nertz_, Dustin _hated_ small talk. He was the un-master of the smallest of talks to even the slightly-less-than-medium talks because he never knew what to say. _Should_ he say something? Could he leave now, was that acceptable? Maybe he should try sneaking away; he was a ninja, ninjas could sneak and-

"Awesome."

Oh, hey. His mouth decided to talk for him. And it even made sense.

That _was_ awesome.

Eight- _Dean's-_ smile widened…maybe, or maybe that was just the tension from plastering it on, the dude looked seriously tired, and drew his arm back to his side.

He studied Dustin carefully, tilting his head to the side. "So," he started again after an awkward silence. "You're friends with Tori."

"Yes."

Well, look at that. Two in a row.

Dustin was doing really good today. Alright, that settled it, he _would_ totally tell Tori (check it, alliteration) on the car ride home. Someone else needed to acknowledge his awesomeness.

The tired smile changed into something else, an unfamiliar look on Dean's face that Dustin didn't like, as though they were conspiring even though Dustin didn't know what they could be conspiring _about_-

"You hit that?" Dean asked, giving Dustin a jerked, probably-intended-to-be-smooth-and-dash-and-debona ir nod in the direction of the water students.

And…okay, that just wasn't fair.

How was Dustin supposed to fake understanding that? He didn't know how to respond. What did number eight mean by "hit that"? What was Dustin hitting? Why would he ask about Tori and then ask Dustin if he had hit-

Oh, wait. Hey. That _kind've_ made sense.

But because it mostly didn't, Dustin gave air student number eight a confused look anyway, because someone did not understand the picture.

"We don't start sparring with other elemental groups until later."

True, the earth and air students trained together sometimes, but that was mostly to learn new techniques. Teagan and Victor wouldn't let them actually spar against each other until they had a better grasp of the basics. Or so Dustin had (and subsequently memorized) been told.

They entered another odd pause and Dustin hated it; he should be changing right now he was going to make Tori wait and-

Dean gave him an amused look that didn't give Dustin any kind of good feelings inside; it wasn't with him, it was _at_ him and what had he said, he had answered the question-

The air student laughed and let out a slow whistle, shaking his head at the things Dustin didn't understand. "Damn Brooks, you're way behind the curve aren't you?"

Which in mean-people land translated to _dear God you did _**_not_**_ answer that question right at all and it is very amusing; so very, very amusing_.

Dustin would really like to go home now. Go back to his established routine and talk to Tori about the things he had won at today, not this. Not this at all.

Except he kind've…well, he wanted to know where he went wrong.

He frowned, but swallowed his pride and went to ask what Dean had meant anyway, because Dean was the one talking to _him_ and the least he could do was explain himself but Dean cut him off with a laugh before he got the chance, patting Dustin's arm in a consoling fashion.

"Don't worry about it man," he said, smile that-wasn't-really-a-smile plastered on his face. "I don't think it'll be a problem for you."

And _what the heck_ was that supposed to mean?

What was this guy's problem? Did he normally go around accosting people and making them feel bad for things they didn't know and refusing to explain these mystical things that only crazy people who walk up and start babbling crazy things got to know?

Because…well Dustin got it. Sort of. This guy knew Dustin was weird and why would _Tori_ hang out with a guy like _him_ but it wasn't like Dustin hit her into spending time with him and if he did why would he tell someone and shouldn't that someone who noticed like, call the police because _that_ was the responsible thing to do?

Not…whatever it was they were doing.

It wasn't this.

"Yo, Dustin!"

Both Dean and the earth student snapped their heads in the direction of the new voice, though Dean-the-mean's look was more of irritation whereas Dustin's was _please-be-here-to-save-me-_**_please_** and he didn't even try to be subtle about it because lo and behold it was _Shane_, swooping in with figurative cape billowing in the wind and he _could not_ be a better sight for sore eyes. Dustin sort of wanted to hug him, if that was allowed, just for showing up and interrupting Dean's accusation of Dustin's painful lack of hitting-people knowledge. It was like he should be shunned in the corner or something, wearing that pointy failure hat so he could just marinate in his own humiliation.

Then of course, Shane _could_ be here to back Dean up, since number eight was an air student and number Shane was an air-

Dustin was almost certain he could outrun them. And then he could hide behind Tori's van until she was done changing and he could just change in the back on the way home, or something, or just wear his robes since Liv was out of town with some friends and his mom wouldn't be home until late so-

"Shane," Dean ground out through a clenched smile that even Dustin could see was like, completely un-legit. They shared a high-five (and didn't miss and fall down, which tended to happen with the air students later in the day) and entered a few tense seconds of staring at each other, as though attempting to establish their dominance through eye-contact.

Dustin entertained the idea of sneaking away. It didn't look like they would notice him anyway and he really hadn't wanted to be here in the first place-

"Dean," Shane murmured back, smile more sincere but still containing this like, dangerous edge. Like a chocolate cake that was poisoned; it looked good but yeah, you eat that and you're _going to die_.

"Just having a friendly conversation," Dean explained, giving Shane a smile that was all teeth and no warmth. Part of Dustin wanted to mention exactly how _not_ friendly their conversation had turned and how much he didn't want to be a part of it, but luckily Shane seemed to get that, subtly moving so that he was slightly in front of the earth student.

"Cool," Shane said, his tone not sharing in the verbal sentiment. "Mind if I cut in?"

Dean narrowed his eyes slightly but kept the cheerful voice, which didn't match up with his answer at all. "Yes."

"Tough," Shane replied, his cheer heartfelt and sincere as he restarted the Dean stare-down, fingers loose against the edge of his pants.

Holy crap it was like a showdown at the O.K. Corral, except with a lot less shooting and a lot more people on the brink of passing out. Dustin was torn between supporting number Shane and hiding in the bushes, because in this scenario he _was_ the air student's Lois Lane and he should at least attempt to honor that, but old habits died hard and the bushes were starting to look very tempting.

"Dustin!"

And for once, no, it wasn't him stupidly repeating his name just to fit in or cause a distraction (though to be fair, he _was_ considering it) and relief immediately flooded through Dustin's body as Tori jogged up to his side, the water students wrapping up for the day. Awesome, he could spend the rest of this conversation hiding behind her and nodding at appropriate moments. Dustin had mastered this a long time ago. It was a skill he was very proud of. He _may_ or may not have created trophies to celebrate this mastery on certain occasions.

Hey, it was the little things you had to appreciate.

"Tori, right?" Dean asked, leaning forward as his disposition did a complete one-eighty of being super tired/annoyed/_I-am-macho-man_ to happy and carefree, causing Dustin to edge a little behind the water student anxiously. Where did that come from? About one second ago he was pretty sure there was going to be fighting and perhaps a minor blood-bath but now, enter girl and-

But it wasn't just any girl; it was Tori and she had that like… princess, communes-with-animals, please-don't-hurt-a-fly feel about her. She made people happy. So it figured she made other people happy? Or, maybe Dean just wanted her to _think_ he was happy-

Okay, that made more sense.

To number eight's side, Shane rolled his eyes at Dean's display, causing Tori to giggle (or that could have been from something Dean did; Dustin would never really know) and the smile tightened up again, but Dean rolled with the…whatever had happened, laughing along with Tori and Dustin edged closer behind her.

Yeah, this was weird.

Dean rolled his shoulders languidly, cracking his neck to play off his obvious exhaustion. "I was just talking to your friend," he helpfully informed, ignoring the part where Dustin was an unwilling participant. "You know, since the air and earth students train together all the time."

This earned a snort from Shane, who was clearly not buying this and Tori raised her eyebrows, studying Dean with an amused look on her face.

"Anyway," Dean continued, sending a tight smile Shane's way before returning his attention to Tori. "I was just about to ask if he'd like to come over to my house Friday night. Get some pizza, watch some bad movies, or you know," he shrugged a shoulder. "Whatever. Of course," his smile relaxed now because it was all Tori now, forget Dustin or Shane. "You're more than welcome to come if you want."

Could _Dustin_ not go? Because he really didn't want to. He was still confused about the supposed hitting he had been doing and or, not doing. Maybe he was _supposed_ to hit Tori, and that was why this was all wacked.

Man, he did not understand people sometimes.

Tori laughed and Dean's smile entered true genuine land, because she could do that, but she reached behind her to pat the side of Dustin's arm. "Sorry, uh-"

"Dean," number eight helpfully supplied, all kinds of eager, and Tori nodded.

"Right," she said. "Dean. But _Dustin_ and I have plans on Friday so…"

"Like a date?" Dean asked, cocking his head to the side and Tori froze, just like Dustin froze because no, there was no dating, and he didn't want to put her in the awkward position of having to date him anyway and-

"No!" Dustin exclaimed before he could think about it too much further, just the need to protect his only friend urging him forward.

Luckily that was all Tori needed to become unfrozen and she smiled again. "Nope. Just a thing."

Dean looked unconvinced. "A thing that only he and you-"

"And Shane."

And oh, yeah, that came from Dustin again, because he was the best at improvisation and don't you forget it, but the air-student-Superman just nodded, content and cool and like, yeah, that was their plan all along, and shrugged at Dean apologetically.

"And me," he said, crossing his arms.

"Yep," Tori cut in before Dean could object. "But there's only room for three so-"

"Maybe next time?" Shane offered, not at all meaning it and Dean knew it. Just a _oh, poor little baby can't come? Isn't that so sad? IT'S SAD._

And Dustin wanted to cringe because he _hated_ that tone, even if it was being used on people who weren't him.

"Yeah," Dean murmured, smile tight because he knew he'd been beat. He rolled his shoulders slowly, no big deal, like this was nothing, to be expected even. "Maybe next time." He turned his eyes towards the changing rooms and nodded in their direction. "Anyway, I gotta get going." The smile turned to murderous smirk as he gave Shane one last look. "I'll see you tomorrow Shane."

Either this happened an awful lot, or Shane was like, super courageous (though this would not surprise Dustin) because he seemed completely unbothered by the feelings of ill-will aimed his way. If anything, he looked smug.

"Yep," Shane replied cheerfully. "See you tomorrow."

And one, two, three,_ FREEDOM! _Dean jogged away as cool and casual as he pleased, relief and victory coursing through Dustin as he stared at his retreating back.

Three awesome points about that conversation:

1) Shane had come to his rescue.

2) Shane had thought he was worthy of being rescued.

3) Shane had successfully rescued Dustin from the incomprehensible conversation and was now…

Wait. Rescues came with rewards. And was…Tori the reward? Since Dean had been the badguy? Had that been the plan all along?

Either way, as bad/confused/lost as Dustin felt, he still had his manners so-

"Thanks," he mumbled, scratching the side of his head. "I mean I uh…didn't really know what was going on."

Which was the nicest way of putting it, but Shane seemed unfazed by his admittance, giving Dustin (check it, Dustin and _not_ Tori) an easy smile in return. "We find that's a common occurrence with Dean. He's usually not so bad but…"

_You're just a little bit special and if I even _**_remember_**_ recruiting you, you need like, the smallest pair of kiddy gloves _**_for everything_****.**

"Well," Shane happily continued, unaware of Dustin's self-deprecating tirade. "He can be a little much at times."

And Tori, who didn't even know what had happened (if what happened could even be considered a criminal offense and it wasn't, it was just Dustin being Dustin and making normal people pick up the pieces for him) stepped forward and clapped Shane's shoulder, smiling so brightly there was probably a chorus of angels going off behind her, or at least a couple dozen birds waiting to whistle a tune. Did it get sunnier? Dustin could _swear_ it had just gotten sunnier in this _exact_-

"Thank you," Tori grinned, giving Shane's arm a few final pats to bring it home. "We really appreciate it."

The use of "we" just solidified Dustin's eternal gratitude towards all things Tori, his willing slavery/servitude/guy-that-follows-her-around-with -baited-breath-and-quiet-adoration guaranteed for as long as she would have it, and never had Dustin been more grateful for not staring at chests.

Honestly, had that been the requirement all along he would have made t-shirts declaring his lack of chest-staring long ago.

"No problem," Shane replied easily, because it was easy wasn't it, just two awesome people talking, words, words, words and easy and comfortable and knowing where they were and how they fit into the world. Or at least, the conversation. "Anyway," Shane continued. "I gotta go."

He gave them both nods before walking off towards the changing rooms, somewhere Dustin actually needed to go but…well, this was a nice moment wasn't it? Might as well enjoy it.

Yes, Shane had played along with them and yes, he _had_ been against Dean but that was because he had known, somehow, that Dustin had needed it and, more importantly, he had cared enough to move into action.

And that little factoid filled Dustin with a kind of hope that honestly worried him just a little bit.

"You all good?" Tori asked, not turning to look at him, keeping the pressure of eye-contact off of his shoulders and Dustin shrugged because…

"Yeah," he murmured. And he was. He was good.

It should be strange. No, it should be _sad_ that his little talk with Dean had worn down on him so much harder than any of their training (Ninja History included) but he was still here, and _Tori_ was still here and Shane was here in spirit, and the way Dustin figured, that counted for a whole heck of a lot.

It was just one step forward.

One tiny, baby step forward.

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><p>Endnotes:<p>

Good news, I actually know where I'm going for the next one, so this train can just keep truckin' along. School permitting, of course.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter! The real vampire (hearts, stars, and horseshoes all in your direction), LamoyaSmith vs blakeNtori (the story still loves you back, for future reference), Rogue Ranger (well…at least the between time's getting _shorter_, right?), and KrazeeeeeeeKatieeeeeeeee (whose name fills me with ridiculous amounts of enthusiasm every time I read it, it's them vowels, I just know it).

Air Student Names: This is what happens when I make up names on the spot. Apparently my random name generator is stuck on the whitey-mc-average pants setting. "Dean" was originally "Sean" (yes, that is my go-to, dumb, jock name) but it sounded too similar to Shane so you know, changed the consonant. Whatever works.

I'll try to add some variety for the other five guys' names. Or hey, submit some suggestions if you like, I'm all ears.

Next chapter, Tori and Dustin happy car times.

The chapter after that, no freaking idea. (But I'm sure I'll figure something out).

Until next time : )


	10. Gossip

Chapter 10

Gossip

Thanks to the much needed aid and support of my two beta's Rogue Ranger and the real vampire. You two are the best bros a gal could ask for : )

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><p>Tori figured out after about one week of riding with Dustin that the urge to pull her newest friend into a hug and hold him as tightly as possible was an especially insistent and difficult one to shake, occurring more often than could ever be healthy. But it was just- <em>Dustin<em>. And she didn't _want_ to think of him as her little teddy bear because he was a person with feelings and not some damn accessory, but he had to go and be all cute and baffled and so heart-breakingly _grateful_ for like, everything, and then she wanted to hug him and ward off any of his enemies with the biggest stick she could find because honestly- he was _best_.

And part of her (the stupid, selfish part) was sort of…glad that no one else had taken to Dustin, that no one else had discovered her magical wonder-boy. Like, she got it, honestly. They were in high school and in high school you just wanted to fit in, go with the flow because there was comfort in solidarity, it was nice to feel like you belonged and obviously…yeah, Dustin was not that.

Dustin was a unique soul who had learned his rules of social engagement from tv shows and movies (the coffee incident was just the first of many). He was honest to a fault (really had no clue when it came to censoring himself) whenever he _did_ talk and he always, _always_ listened. The few times Tori had steered him towards a subject he was obviously enthusiastic about (cue ninja robes) he could babble on about a mile a minute, creative and out there and dragging Tori into realms of conversation she never would have thought to see, before he eventually remembered he was shy and clammed up, not wanting to go on about himself.

Tori didn't know what had happened to Dustin in the past to make him so shut off (whatever it was it made her want to hunt some people down, exercise some ninja skill on their asses) but she was willing to wait for enthusiastic-Dustin to be full time. She was patient; she could do that. She would just make sure he knew he was wanted and that it was safe and she didn't judge him and hopefully one day they could have a _real_ conversation. Not one where she felt like a tyrant who ruled over all; Dustin too scared half the time to give her an answer.

They were working on it; definitely getting better. Dustin was more relaxed, slowly but surely volunteering more information. That was why Tori decided to go ahead and take the plunge, steering Dustin into unexplored conversational territories.

It was gossip time.

She had a certain tan-skinned, Dustinly-protective air student she wanted to talk about.

A certain attribute, to be specific…

"So," Tori began brightly, turning off of the road from the Wind Academy onto the main highway, cruising at a safe speed. "Shane."

Shane, she liked that name. Toeing the line of overly-masculine without completely surrendering to the concept.

Beside her, Dustin gave a wide-eyed look; his half-way to panic, oh-no, _you-want-me-to-pick-up-the-conversation-but-you-di dn't-tell-me-where-to-go _look. And yes, that _was_ the look. Tori had to master his non-verbals early on or else she would never understand what he was thinking.

To save him the stress Tori blithely continued, "Do you think he's cute?"

She got half of a relieved sigh before Dustin tensed up again, the question dawning on him, fingers dancing against his pant leg nervously.

He pointed to himself. "I'm a guy."

Tori smiled. "Yes."

In her peripheral she could see Dustin cock his head to the side like a confused puppy and oh- _hugs_.

"He's a guy."

The water student nodded an affirmative. "Also true."

This was an exercise they participated in more often than not. Establishing some ground rules for Dustin so he could understand what was going on and comfortably contribute to the conversation. It was Dustin's way of letting Tori know what _he_ knew, but it was also his way of building support for whatever arguments he might have.

They stopped at a red light and Tori turned to see Dustin give a face that said his brain really hurt. She bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing, and Dustin tapped his chin, deep in thought. "I don't think we're supposed to talk about that," he said, then thought some more. "Yeah," he nodded. "Pretty sure."

The light turned green and Tori gave a small shrug. "Just subtract yourself from the equation. Think objectively."

Out of the corner of her eye she could see Dustin make his _stop-using-words-I-don't-know_ face.

This time Tori _did_ laugh.

She didn't have to look his way to know he was making his _don't-laugh-at-my-faces_ face.

Tori made a left turn, trying to think out a new argument. "What I mean is that if you weren't a guy-"

"Am I a girl?" Dustin sounded half-frightened by this prospect, though he tried to muffle that fact, not wanting to offend her.

Tori gave another laugh. "No," she grinned, waving a hand at him expressively. "Think of yourself as a piece of the cosmos."

She could tell her explanation didn't hit by his confused silence.

"Can I just be a guy?" he finally asked, staring down at himself. "I think I'd be more comfortable with that."

_Of course you would_.

Baby steps though, baby steps. In a normal conversation most guys would have high-tailed it the moment she asked if Shane was cute.

"Okay, how about this," she began, throwing a conspiring glance his way. He loved those. "You're a guy, but all the rules about what you're supposed to talk about or not-talk about don't exist."

Dustin thought about this, mulling over it slowly before it was eventually allowed with a nod. "Okay."

"Great," Tori chirped; _now_ they were getting somewhere. "Now, do you think he's cute?"

There was a pause, and then: "You know I'm a guy right?"

She could _feel_ her eye twitching but Tori refused to shown any other signs of tension, letting out a slow breath before saying, "We've covered this."

"No, just-" Dustin sighed, his _I'm-disappointing-you-but-the-rules-Tori_-**_the-rules _**one. "I'm not a girl. I thought this was what girls talked about to other girls."

Tori sent him a comforting smile. "Those rules don't exist either."

_Really Dustin, get off of cable man, live a little_.

Someone had watched one too many of those sleepover movies. Which were wildly inaccurate, in Tori's opinion.

There was another uncertain pause from Dustin's side of the van, but this one was more comfortable, considering. "Okay," he said eventually. "Sure."

After a few seconds Tori realized that this was actually his way of answering the question, as opposed to accepting the rules don't exist.

"Sure?" she echoed.

Dustin shrugged. "I guess he's cute."

It was a legitimate answer, not forced because she asked him; this was him giving her query some thought, going back to whatever references tv had given him and coming up with a conclusion. It wasn't exactly the most enthusiastic of conclusions, but it was honest.

Tori's smile widened. "You guess, or you _know_?"

Dustin tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling. "Not really good at that 'knowing' thing."

His tone was part-bashful, part-embarrassed, indicating another problem of Dustin's - very low self esteem.

He wasn't dumb; he just…tended to focus on other things. Like, his mind moved faster than everyone else's, so while they were stuck back on whatever subject they were talking about his brain had already abandoned that track and moved onto something new. The upside: super creativity and unique approaches to problem solving. The downside? Major lack of focus, so he missed a lot of things. Add to this the fact that he _knew_ he was missing out on whatever the rest of the group had picked up on…

His extreme focus was reserved for things he was really passionate about, like riding or ninja school or food. Tori was convinced he was a chef-in-training or something because his food skills were ridiculous; sometimes, when she picked him up for training, he brought her homemade peanut butter banana muffins or stuffed French toast sandwiches or pecan maple Danishes or-

Point was, when Dustin was really good at something he owned it, completely. And when Dustin _didn't,_ he had trouble paying attention, which had eventually morphed into the belief his intelligence was below that of his peers, so he felt like less and apparently whoever he had been dealing with in the past had taken advantage of this feeling of low worth, so much so that it wasn't just hypothetical in Dustin's mind, it was a _fact_.

It was- she would work on it. _They_ would work on it. Because Dustin wasn't a project, he wasn't a pet, he was a _person_ and he deserved to feel good about himself; he should_ always_ feel good about himself.

Tori backpedaled, steering away from dangerous waters. "Alright, alright; 'guess' works for me."

Dustin looked down from the ceiling and shrugged, then paused and looked at her, his turn to ask questions. "Why are we talking about cuteness?"

Tori had to stifle a laugh. See, that would have probably been the first question on any other guy's mind. Providing that he actually stuck around after her initial query.

"I just wanted your opinion," she chirped. And you know, hopefully get the ball rolling so that _Dustin_ would talk about the epic man-crush he had on Shane. Or maybe it was hero-worship? She wasn't sure.

Hence the conversation.

Of course, it didn't hurt that she had taken a liking to the air student herself…

Dustin gave her an uneasy look. "Why?" he asked. "Are we going to have to do this about other guys?"

They pulled up to another red light and Tori could see him eye window thoughtfully, as though he was considering jumping out.

Tori waved _no_. "It's just him."

The earth student sighed and leaned back in seat. Crisis avoided.

And now for the interesting stuff; she pressed onward. "Do you like him?"

Which was asked more for his reaction than the obvious answer, because she knew, YES, Dustin was a major fan of Shane and all Shane-related objects. Seeing as he constantly referred to the air students as "Shane and all those other guys" and didn't even know the names of half the people in his _own_ elemental group.

The reaction she got was immediate; Dustin blinked and sat a little more upright, like he was nervous, and _oh yes_, she could feel the bromance.

"Yeah, he's cool," Dustin mumbled, trying to play it off.

Tori allowed herself an all-knowing smirk. "Just cool?"

"Yeah well," Dustin fidgeted and sunk down in his seat, the perfect example of bashfulness. Tori wanted to hug him (and would have, if it didn't mean possibly crashing her van). "He's the one that recruited me."

Tori was still reveling in the cute vibes so it took her a moment to process what he'd said; discovery and hidden pieces finally clicking into place. "So _that's_ how you knew him."

It didn't seem like a normal recruitment tactic but, well, Victor and Teagan didn't seem all that normal anyway, and the mystery of Dustin's Shane-worship had finally been solved. Shane was a good guy, he had…well, whatever he had done had gotten Dustin _to_ the school, and he was still a good guy so he looked after Dustin and-

Oh the stories she could write about these two. They were so damn cute.

She should really stop thinking that. Maybe replace cute with "manly."

Yes, they were so damn _manly_.

Dustin was still fidgeting nervously, looking out the window because his skills at downplaying things were nonexistent. "Yeah."

And hey- idea. Yes, there was a very _wicked_ idea here.

She cast a nonchalant look Dustin's way, innocently suggesting, "We should talk to him."

The new reaction was even better than the last one.

Dustin panicked and latched onto the seat rest, wild eyes staring at her beseechingly. "About his cuteness?" he asked, color draining from his face.

Tori couldn't help it, she laughed, giving Dustin's arm a comforting pat. "No, I think we'll try a different topic of conversation first."

The earth student turned bashful, knowing he'd overreacted and feeling stupid for it; diverted his eyes to the window. "Yeah, that'll probably be better."

The hand on his arm gave it a squeeze, trying to employ those mannerisms she knew he perceived as comfort; trying to keep him from feeling bad.

"Don't worry Dustin," she said, smiling. She steered him towards more stable ground, changing the topic back to Shane. "We're too awesome for him not to like."

She could tell Dustin wasn't really feeling the notion himself but he believed in her, and he managed to give a smile back. "Yeah, we are aren't we?"

_They are. Fact._

They pulled up to another red light and Tori was struck with an idea, sharing it immediately with an enthusiastic clap. "Our Friday thing should be a thing," she decided.

Dustin very appropriately made his _I-don't-know-what's-going-on_ face.

Her smile widened. "Our made-up Friday thing," she elaborated, referring to the conversation they had with Dean. "We could make it a thing."

Dustin held perfectly still, facial expression firmly in place and eyes wide, waiting for her either to explain or condemn him for not understanding what she was getting at.

"A _real_ thing," she said, making sure her tone was just as cheerful and patient as it was before and she wanted to hug, she _did_, but this was something they needed to get done before the light turned green and she needed to make sure Dustin was with her on this.

Based on the steadfast blank look adorning his face, the earth student was most surely not.

"With _Shane_," Tori coaxed and she finally got a reaction, Dustin making a new _omg-_**_heart-attack_** face. She continued before he could protest. Because he actually might this time. "Yep, that settles it; I'll take care of all the arrangements, don't worry about a thing."

Oh this was exciting. Tori had…well, she had a lot of acquaintances from the beach and from school that she liked to talk to and she had _some_ friends, but nothing like she had with Dustin. Despite the lack of communication and the sometimes tip-toeing, they had something special, and Tori couldn't wait to expand that. Shane was a good guy. In Dustin's world, he was probably the _best_ guy. Therefore it was only logical for him to be added to their little group. Clearly, this made the most sense.

Dustin was not agreeing with this conclusion though; wearing his _nope-I-am-still-very-worried_ face but not (and this was the important part, because otherwise she would have called it all off) protesting. He wanted to do it, she could tell, he just- he was concerned.

But Tori knew, deep down, that he wouldn't have to be. Because if anyone would be okay, it would be Shane. The guy had stood up for Dustin; clearly that required some kind of good guy initiative and if he really _was_ sucky Tori would be able to figure it out on Friday and-

Wait. Shoot, she was missing a piece to the puzzle here.

What she had walked in on had clearly been Shane standing up for Dustin, not- not like he was being bullied she didn't think, because one of the other students would have interceded before that and Tori was pretty sure Dustin was Teagan's favorite and that would not stand, not at all so…

Uncomfortable conversation, maybe. And then Shane stepped in upon seeing this and-

It made her wonder what they had been talking about. Dean and Dustin.

"Dustin?" Tori kept her tone light, not wanting to startle the earth student with a sudden emotional one-eighty.

His head snapped up; he'd probably been focusing on his lap while his fingers ran through his hair nervously; trying to convince himself the world would not come to an end because of a yet-to-be-had Friday thing.

"What did Dean say?" she asked, trying to keep her undying urge to _know_ from leaking into her voice. "Before Shane and I showed up?"

Dustin went from worried to quiet and ashamed, almost folding in on himself when he replied, "He asked if I hit you."

Wait and-

"_What?_"

Tori couldn't help but sound mildly enraged as she pulled to the side of the road, somewhere in the suburbs and parked the car, giving Dustin her full attention. She wasn't sure if she was missing a few sentences or some context because Dustin could do that, unintentionally; he just gave her the things he had funneled from the situation which sometimes- yeah, that left out a lot.

Dustin flinched, thinking the anger was directed at him and before Tori could reassure him otherwise the floodgates opened.

"It's just-" he began, sounding panicked. "I was walking along and I wanted to go get changed and then _he_ showed up and he was 'Hi' and I was all 'Hi' and I figured we were good but then he asked if I hit you and I told him we don't spar with water students until later but then he just laughed because it wasn't about the sparing I guess but he wouldn't explain it and then Shane showed up and they had an angry-_grrr_-stare contest and then you showed up and is 'hit' slang for something? Like a high five? Because I think Dean wants to 'hit' you but I don't know if that's good or that's bad or-"

"Woah, woah, _woah_," Tori said, grabbing the sides of his arms so that he will _look_ at her, his eyes having wildly avoided her side of the van during his entire explanation. "Slow down tiger, one thing at a time," she coaxed, tone soothing. Dustin risked a peak at her, still uncomfortable and upset. "What were his exact words? About the hitting thing."

She had a feeling she already knew what it was, and Dustin didn't disappoint her.

"_You hit that_?" he said, trying to copy Dean's tone and mannerisms. "And then he nodded at you like-" He gave a jerked nod, trying to emulate the confidence and ego of Dean he just didn't have, and Tori glowered, glaring in the direction of the Wind Academy.

"That son of a-" She turned her attention back to Dustin who had broken into medium freaking out, scared, and she rubbed the sides of his shoulder. "First of all, you didn't do anything wrong, and I'm actually kind've glad you don't know what 'hit' is slang for." He gave a slow nod and eventually relaxed when she didn't get mad at him, and she continued, "And second of all Dean is a jerk so not-liking him, or anything that he says? That's okay. Do not waste any time on that guy alright?"

Dustin nodded slowly, relieved, and the tension in his shoulders let up minutely. "Okay."

She couldn't _believe_- Okay, now she got it. Dean had been using Dustin to get to _her_ and Shane had stepped in, further supporting the good-guy-feels emanating from his person.

"Are you mad?"

It was asked so quietly Tori wasn't sure if she was meant to hear it, but when she looked at Dustin he was fighting for eye contact, full attention on her.

"Because people think I hit you?" he elaborated and then the eye contact was broken and he focused on the hands in his lap.

Tori wanted to say she was proud of him, because she knew it was hard, but wasn't sure if she could, if it wouldn't be belittling and she knew what she should say but she didn't want to cut off Dustin. He looked like he still had more to say.

"I know that-" he began then flinched and Tori found herself leaning forward and pulled herself back. No interruptions, it was Dustin's turn to have the floor. "I know I can be difficult and that like-" He shrugged but it wasn't nonchalant, he just wanted to _seem_ nonchalant. "Most times I'm like a charity case, or a project or something. That's what girls like and if people think I hit you to be friends with me-"

There were so many things she wanted to say. Important stuff; affirmations they were _fine_, he was _fine_, but she focused on what was needed to be disabused at this exact second.

"No one thinks that," she blurted, and he looked up, startled, but she just held onto his gaze. "It's a euphemism, and a stupid one but no one thinks that and it's not bad and you-" She finally gave in to the all-encompassing desire and threw her arms around him, leaning forward and hugging him close. "-are _not_ a charity case and I would be mad that you think so little of me but I know-" She pulled back to look at him, his eyes wide in surprise and shock, confusion. "I know what it's like to be scared. But we are friends Dustin. Not because I want to 'fix' you, but because I want to get to know you and spend time with you." She gave his arms one last squeeze before sitting back in her seat, looking at him smugly. "And that's just something you're going to have to deal with, okay?"

And then, wait for it, wait and…she got a smile. A real, slowly put on, bashful, legitimate Dustin smile. Not forced. Not laughing even though he didn't get the punchline. It was a Dustin smile, the _third_ she had managed to coax into existence and she smiled right back, owning the world.

"Okay," Dustin echoed back, smile timidly growing. "I can work with that."

"Good," she chirped, putting her van into drive and pulling back onto the road. "Because you're gonna _have_ to."

"_Eh_, could be worse."

She couldn't- wow, she almost hit something and Dustin didn't even look _mildly_ apologetic when she threw a playful glare his way. He just shrugged, innocently, and Tori grinned.

This was the start of many magical things.

She could _feel_ it.

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><p>Endnotes:<p>

Tori/Dustin good times for the win! Fear not, there is more next chapter. And we might even see some of that "Shane" guy we keep hearing so much about

Double rainbow thanks to Rogue Ranger and ValkyrieNyght for reviewing last chapter. You two already know how much I hearts you, but just to reiterate (because it never hurts) thank you for the _lurve_.

Until next time.


	11. Chocolate

Chapter 11

Chocolate

A whole lot of adoration and thanks to my beta the real vampire for taking the time to find all of my mistakes. There were, as embarrassing as it is to admit, a lot of them. Thanks again vamps, and if you haven't checked out her story "My Brother's Keeper" then you are missing out my friends. It is good reading.

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><p>"<em>Ohhhhhh,<em> Dustin."

There wasn't much else Tori could think of to say that would properly express the feeling of unease that permeated her being when riddled with the sight before her.

It was just- she had no _words_.

And she wanted to. Her ability to create and weave a fluid conversation between the two of them was rather vital towards her and Dustin's relationship but she was, for lack of better word, speechless.

Her speech had been stolen and squirreled away to a world where speeches went to _hide_ from the likes of conversations to which they knew they had absolutely no chance of doing justice. Cowardly, almost certainly impossible, yet here she was.

Beside her, Dustin fidgeted nervously.

"Why did you draw out the _'oh'_? Drawing out the _'oh'_ is never a good thing. It's usually followed by _'ohhhhh, man you suck';_ that's what a prolonged _'oh'_ is for." He stopped his ramble, teeth worrying against his bottom lip as his eyebrows furrowed in thought. "I have to look it up to be sure though. To the internet!"

With that declaration he abruptly turned on his heel, probably to make his way towards his computer, and Tori reached out for him, fumbling to grab at his shoulder because she could not. Look. Away.

Had she but known what Dustin's request for fashion advice would have entailed, she would have done a better job mentally preparing herself. She would not abandoned him altogether (even though at the moment it _was_ a tempting option) because she could not, in good conscious, desert him to this…_this_, but a little meditation would have gone a long way to brace herself when first viewing the strangely mythical and outlandish might that was Dustin's wardrobe.

It had been an innocent enough inquiry. She had managed to ask Shane to hang out with her and Dustin at the movies on Friday; nothing major, nothing that would require too much interaction. Just something to ease the air student into…her-and-Dustin bonding time, she guessed, would be the best way to put it.

Shane had agreed with an easy smile, startled at first, like he had forgotten what happened, but jumping on board happily.

Tori liked Shane. She hoped he didn't turn out to secretly be a creep or something. No, _no_ it was fine, and the last thing Dustin needed was for _her_ to have doubts, but that didn't seem to matter so much anyway because the possibility that Tori was going to be stuck in a horrified trance at the threshold of Dustin's closet for the rest of her life was becoming more and more likely.

He had just asked for some advice. Some helpful fashion advice from a friend. Because Dustin had concerns and he didn't want to mess anything up (he hadn't said as much but the message was clear enough to Tori). The blonde was willing to do anything that would bolster Dustin's confidence, including coordinating ensembles, so she had simply asked when and where and put on her perkiest attitude and her brightest smile.

Though optimism would only get her so far.

It turned out Dustin actually wore his workout clothes to and from training. Which were fine. His workout clothes were good. Simple. Nice.

This was not the case with his regular clothes.

Tori shook her head stubbornly, trying to snap herself out of the funky-clothes trance. "No, no. No," she said, reeling Dustin back beside her before he could make his escape. "No you're fine; don't worry about…"

She tilted her head to the side, trying to study one of his shirts. It had purple. _And_ orange. On a yellow shirt. There were purple stripes and orange polka dots on the _same_ yellow shirt. Where did he buy that?

She was…absolutely befuddled. She couldn't think of another word for it. And she _knew_ she shouldn't ask, that her mind would remain in a more positive state if she just _didn't_ ask, but her curiosity was beating out her common sense, and she really _did_ want to know who was responsible for this particular catastrophe.

"Who buys your clothes Dustin?"

The nervous twitching beside her evolved into an awkward nervous dance; Dustin constantly shifting his feet in unease and moving as much as her grip on his shirt would allow.

There was trepidation in his tone when he answered. "I mean uh…I do? My mom just gives me the money before school starts and lets me take care of it." He stilled for a moment, lost in thought, making sure he properly answered her question. "Except for emergencies. Like that time I lost my coat. But other than that you know…" He motioned to his pile of awful with pride. "It's all me."

She had been afraid of that.

Tori couldn't help the twitching, though luckily she was able to keep it to a minimum, and resisted the urge to back away slowly from the hodge-podge of clothing. Her imagination must have taken some inspiration from all the wild colors because she could swear the clothes were edging toward her, wanting to drag her tastefully put together ensemble into its pit of uncoordinated-colors.

"And what…" Tori tried to think of the best way to put this; what would be the least insulting to an already skittish companion. "What exactly was your…" Her eye twitched again; one of his shirts had a mock-holographic panel on the front.

_Oh God_.

"_Criteria_," she settled on, the word feeling odd and unnatural in her mouth. "When searching for your…clothes?"

And that was, undeniably, debatable.

These were not clothes. These were _offenses_ to modern society. These should be outcast from civilization and shunned, _shunned_, to die a soggy, weather-beaten death where no one would ever have the misfortune of casting their eyes on them ever again.

"Uh…" Dustin trailed off, kicking (literally _kicking_) his feet in a bashful manner. "…Yellow?"

Tori's eye twitched again.

Dustin shuffled some more. "Does that not-?"

"Nope," Tori interrupted, knowing _exactly_ where his question was going. "That does not count."

At least…well, at least the pants were okay. The motocross gear checked out too. And he had like, three okay t-shirts that didn't feel the need to assault one's eyeballs. So there was that.

"Is it bad?"

She turned her eyes away from the fashion horror story for the first time since it had stumbled upon her vision, taking in the sight of a confused but certainly going on depressed Dustin.

Tori sighed but gave a tight smile, reaching out to give his shoulder a comforting pat. It almost seemed to be their main form of communication sometimes.

"We can do better," she replied, not quite answering his question as she moved forward, trying to separate the things that were salvageable/passing/fine from what needed to be shot and burned.

Not donated. Even _she_ couldn't donate this stuff.

"Alright," she declared, shaking off her fashion-shock and getting proactive; she was a ninja-to-be and no _closet_ was going to leave her moping. "First things first; we'll separate what stays and what goes."

Dustin jolted. "Stuff is- ?"

"Yes," Tori answered, waving a hand. "Stuff is going."

She knew this…this could cross some lines. There were boundaries and she shouldn't just step in and take over certain parts of his life but she couldn't- she just honestly _couldn't_ leave him and his clothes like this. With this… She felt horrible thinking it, but with Dustin's current shopping strategy of 'buy-what's-clashing-and-yellow' it was no small wonder that he had…

That he had been picked on. Which was stupid; all he needed was a guiding hand to like, filter his color-magnetism to the less-clashing clothes and he would be fine.

She turned towards Dustin, starting a pile on his bed for the things that had been okayed.

"Dustin, I'm a girl," she explained. "And what are girls known to love?"

The beyond-baffled expression on his face was enough of a tell that he didn't understand how what Tori had just said applied to their previous conversation, so she wasn't all that surprised when his answer turned out to be: "…Unicorns?"

Tori stopped, sent him a reproachful look and immediately softened it, forgetting that Dustin letting her this far in was a monumental step for him.

Thankfully, instead of getting down-trodden Dustin opted for his cute, rambly sort of panic, and started fidgeting with his curly hair. "Cupcakes? _Shoes_. No not- obviously not shoes; that's a stereotype- is it rainbows? Cuz like, _everybody_ likes rainbows so- oh, well obviously it's not rainbows because if _everyone_ liked them it wouldn't just be girls so-"

"Fashion," Tori cut him off, smiling fondly at her babbling friend. "Girls like fashion and I am no exception."

Dustin blinked at her owlishly, frozen mid-spiel and looking like he had some very thoughtful suggestions on the tip of his tongue.

"Yes," he said, nodding slowly. "Girls like fashion and you like fashion and it makes _very_ much sense to be talking about this not love for rainbows." He nodded again, like he understood this thing and _all_ of its importance even when he really didn't.

"What I'm saying is that I'm a bit of an expert when it comes to this stuff."

Dustin blinked at her again, his knowing-but-not-knowing look plastered stubbornly on his face. He even rubbed his chin a little for extra style.

Seriously, he was _best_.

"So I _know_ what I'm talking about," she explained. "When it comes to clothes. And clothes that need to go. And be replaced." She tilted her head to study him closer, to see if any of this was getting through. "Do you under-?"

"Fashion sensei!" Dustin exclaimed, causing Tori to stumble back at the jarring change from confuzled-thinking to all-out-exuberance. "Is that what you're talking about?" he asked, hands clenched in front of his chest and bouncing on the balls of his feet, barely contained excitement that he figured out where she was going.

"Yeah Dustin," Tori replied, smiling brightly. "Fashion sensei."

"Cool."

Now that went much better than she could have ever hoped it to.

"Okay now," she began as she continued sorting out the piles, instructing Dustin to fold the things that would definitely be…dealt with. "Is there a chance you can get your clothes budget soon?"

"Sure," Dustin replied, nose scrunching in frustration as one of the fashion abominations refused any kind of folding-conformity. "I've still got the money from last time."

"You didn't spend it?"

He shrugged. "Didn't need to; everything still fit."

And if everything still fit and was safely within Dustin-qualifications why _should_ he go out and spend it?

"Why not use it on something else then?" Tori asked, eyeing her tiny pile of savable clothes with a look of pity. The lone few, the only survivors to this horrible tragedy of fashion.

Dustin sent her a look of obvious distaste and gave up on folding his stubborn t-shirt. "The money is for _clothes_. To use it on something else would be dishonorable. Besides, that's what I've got my job for."

He threw the shirt off to the side and focused on the rest of his charges, folding, rolling and condensing them as best he could, making it so Tori didn't have to bother hiding the beaming smile she sent his way. A figurative slap on the wrist from Dustin had to be a sign of comfort, that he was finally lowering her down enough to be an equal instead of some untouchable thing on a pedestal, and of course, _of course_ he would care about honor. Were there any teenage boy in the world who gave a damn about esteem and his own self-respect, it would be Dustin.

Even if the world didn't always do right by him, he would not surrender and do wrong in return.

Even with clothing budgets.

"Of course," Tori replied easily, and just like that any tension that might have existed vanished with a shrug of Dustin's shoulders, the weight of quarrel lifted and replaced with their usual harmony. "I apologize for suggesting otherwise."

Dustin beamed at her, the smile still shy but his eyes radiated a warmth he was still wary to express, but still, he beamed. "No harm done." He paused for a moment, recognition dawning on him as he remembered what had set him off on the honor-thing, and confusion set in again, head tilting to the side as he studied Tori. "What do we need the clothes budget for?"

Tori was proud to say she didn't actually have to spell that one out for Dustin; one not-so-innocent smile and a nod to his clothing later made him realize what Tori had in mind and the earth student groaned, flopping face-first onto his unorganized pile with an air of defeat.

"_Ugh…_**_shopping_**," he grumbled, clearly not understanding how his friend could do this to him; a fate worse than death befalling on his poor, virtuous soul.

"Yes," Tori chirped, light and happy and ready for the challenges that awaited them.

He turned his head towards her, making no attempt to move off of his new clothing nest. "I am second-guessing asking for your advice."

"Change is good," Tori replied, moving to hang the approved clothes back in his closet. "And I'll buy you some ice cream afterwards to make up for it, okay?"

When she came back into view his eyes were narrowed in her direction, contemplating the merits of getting up, before he grumbled, "There better be sprinkles."

"What's ice cream without sprinkles?" Tori asked, and the only response she received was a defeated snort, like he would go along with this but he would_ not_ be happy about it. Tori only smiled, knowing they were taking a step in the right direction.

Or, at the very least, his wardrobe was.

And that had to count for something.

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Getting to the mall in one piece wasn't a difficult thing; neither was finding parking or a department store that would have the appropriate clothes for Dustin's needs. The hard part, and Tori really should have foreseen this after the pitiful looks of longing Dustin sent his old clothes as Tori neatly boxed them away, was getting the curly-haired teen to _embrace_ the options she selected for him. Oh, he'd try them on; if there was anything Dustin appreciated it was successfully following someone else's lead, but the obstinate mood of unenthused reluctance with which he tried everything on was beginning to wear down even _her_ sunny disposition, and she had _instigated_ the entire affair.

"What about this one?" Tori offered up her selection with a bright smile, ignoring Dustin's obvious look of doubt. It was a nice shirt, and it was _yellow_; what more could he want?

"I dunno," he said, unconsciously tugging at one of his stray curls. "It's so…"

When he trailed off and continued to say nothing Tori gave the hanger an additional shake, as though putting the clothes in movement would somehow change his appreciation for them. "It's yellow."

"True." He nodded appreciatively, showing that was the one feature he approved of. "But it's so…"

He trailed off again, head titled to the side, considering, and Tori struggled to think of the possible qualms he could have with this shirt. "Are the sleeves to long?"

"What?" He scrunched his nose, obviously confused as to why sleeve length could possibly matter. "No, the sleeves are fine; it's just…"

"Just…" Tori prompted, eyes wide as the anticipation finally got to her. If he ever finished his sentence the reason of her shirt's inadequacy would be bestowed upon her ignorant mind.

"Boring," Dustin finished, nodding in agreement with himself.

Tori blanched. _Boring_. He thought the shirt was _boring_.

"Yeah, that's it," Dustin said, smiling brightly as he came to his conclusion. "It's just so plain."

"But it's _yellow_," Tori stubbornly repeated, clinging to that lifeline to keep her from launching into a spiel about just how _un-boring_ her clothing advice was.

"And that's awesome," Dustin replied happily. "But it's just so…regular. And stuff."

"It's not regular it's…" Tori narrowed her eyes, struggling to think of the right word for this. "_Subdued_."

When she looked back at Dustin he was blinking at her in the _please-define-that-word_ face, and Tori tempered a quiet sigh.

"It's subtle," she explained. "Like…when you're drinking hot chocolate and you add just a _hint_ of peppermint." She paused, waiting to see that he was following along, and then continued. "See this shirt is like that hint of peppermint. It's not what the entire drink is about but it makes it better by adding _just_ enough to make it special. The peppermint is a subtle flavor."

"I get that," Dustin replied, nodding to show he understood but eyebrows still furrowed, indicating he was not entirely convinced by this argument. "But who wants to be peppermint when they can be chocolate? Chocolate's _way_ better."

"Yeah, but eat too much and…"

"Chocolate overload," Dustin finished in wonder, eyes wide at the implications of her statement.

_Note to self; metaphors are effective tools for explaining things_.

"Exactly," Tori cheered, glad to see her friend was finally coming around to her point of view. "Now will you please at least _try_ the shirt on?"

He paused for a moment, clearly still on the fence about the idea, but gradually reached out and relieved Tori of her selection of t-shirts.

When he came out of the dressing room any frustrations Tori might have had instantly vanished because this, this was _worth it_.

Dustin looked…well, he looked like himself. Casual and relaxed, clothes low maintenance, nothing too fancy, but better than…yeah, better than that other stuff. And yellow, of course, but _nice_ yellow. Yellow that was untarnished by colors it should-_never_-be-coordinated-with yellow.

All in all she would say she had successfully earned her female-card. She never thought she would be allowed the opportunity to spring a makeover on someone that _wasn't_ herself, but here she was. Dustin had to be loving this; she was sure there was at least fifteen different tv shows that featured a makeover episode - it was practically a requirement. The awkward-but-loveable caterpillar would, with a little support, elbow grease, and female intuition, get to fulfill the aesthetic potential they had all along, transforming into a radiant butterfly. A little clichéd, but still applicable.

And with…she didn't want to say regular, but with more _subdued_ clothing, Dustin would at least have a shot at conversation before people used his fashion against him. At the minimum it would help him blend in with the crowd, if that was his decision. Whatever he preferred.

"You look great!" Tori chirped, moving to stand beside Dustin as he inspected himself in the three-way mirror.

Despite her enthusiasm the brunette still had a doubtful look on his face, tugging at the hem of the t-shirt nervously. "I look…yeah," he eventually admitted. "I look regular."

"Regular's not…" Tori stopped her automatic urge to ease Dustin into new clothing and actually watched him. Saw what he was doing, how he was feeling.

He was uneasy, that was clear, but she had simply thought that was par for the course when a girl helped a boy shop for clothes, even more so when the boy in question was Dustin. It was becoming more and more obvious that there was something else bothering her friend and it didn't have to do with the plainness of the clothes or the shopping or the abandonment of the old ones. It was something else.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, giving the earth student a look of concern that was nothing but supportive, for anything he said; no judgment.

He still flinched.

"Nope," he replied, his tone and the slight cringe aching at his jaw doing nothing to support the words spoken. "I'm all good. You're right, I look great, where's the next shirt?"

"Dustin-"

"I said I'm _fine_." He drew the last word out like he was begging, like they were back again, at the beginning, and he was begging Tori to stay; he was trying _so hard_ to conform to this idea he thought the rest of the world wanted.

Conforming to…

_Oh_- and like that it hit her and Tori felt like a prize idiot.

Just, _oh_, because this discomfort was Tori's doing; this change was well-meant, but still an ultimatum. To change himself into something else.

Those had been his clothes. The ones _he picked_, for himself, and Tori had said they weren't good enough. That there was something wrong with…

"We don't have to do this," Tori said, utterly sincere, and gave the other teen's shoulder a comforting squeeze. "I'm sorry, I didn't think-"

She stopped abruptly, startled by his look of surprise and wonder, conflicted and sad and confused and all these awful feeling rolled into one, and he didn't know what to do, what was next-

"No you're-" he started, then cut himself off, shaking his head in frustration that he couldn't find the words to express himself. "I know you're helping, because you're Tori, you help, but they…"

He shrugged and she realized the _"they"_ he was referring to had to be the bastards that conditioned him to be like this, withdrawn and quiet and she hated them, whoever they were, _hated _them with more passion than she thought could ever be possible.

"They…" Dustin continued, toying with the yellow hem once more. "They did this. The shopping and fixing thing. They tried to help, but then they uh…well, they left and after that I just…I bought all the stuff they _didn't_ pick, because I didn't want to wear their stuff anymore because they…"

"They're _jerks_," Tori muttered, fierce and refusing to let Dustin think anything less.

The brunette snapped his head up, eyes pulled from the ground they had fixed on the moment he began his explanation. "Yeah well, I guess you…I don't…"

He still didn't believe her, probably wouldn't for a very long time, but Tori hadn't really expected that. She knew better.

But despite this, she was a girl, a girl with a heart that wasn't _completely_ led astray by teenage whimsy, and she had a friend standing before her, starting to slip into a depression that was reasonable and frustrating because he _didn't_ deserve that.

So she did the only logical thing she could do.

She hugged him.

She gave into the moment and threw her arms around his neck, drawing him in close and giving him a fierce squeeze, probably stronger than she should have and, after a moment of absolute shock, Dustin hesitantly reciprocated it. He leaned into her, sighing, and beneath her finger tips she could feel some of the tension leave his shoulders, finally relaxing for the first time since the shopping trip began.

"I'm sorry," Tori repeated when they drew apart, eyes focused on Dustin and disregarding the extraneous people around them casting them quizzical looks, wondering what was going on. "I guess I got a bit ahead of myself with the…" She motioned to his clothes and he smiled, hesitant and tiny. "How about we call it a day then? We can go and get ice cream and then head back to your place and unpack your clothes. What do you say?"

"I say…" He thought about it, then shook his head. "No."

Tori's expression fell; disappointed she had been shot down, though she supposed that she deserved it…

"No," he continued. "You're right. I mean, I didn't want their clothes but I also don't want…my clothes? Do you get it?"

He stared at her imploringly, gnawing on his bottom lip as he awaited her answer, and Tori nodded slowly.

Yes, she supposed she did.

"A fresh start then?" she asked with a smile. Immediately they were both grinning loons, Dustin's eyes lightening up like they did whenever he talked about food or riding or when he knew they were connecting, that they were making their way together in this giant confusing world of theirs.

"Yeah," Dustin agreed. "A fresh start. Let's do this chocolate-mint thing."

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Shane had tried to plead off his assigned duties with claims of sore muscles and low energy; he had argued that he needed rest, he needed space, he needed to do things that did _not_ include playing chauffeur to certain younger siblings who were less than grateful for his efforts and more than _happy_ to waste his time deliberating between two sets of high heels that looked _exactly_ the same.

Unfortunately, he did not win any of his arguments. Not that he expected to, but he could at least say he tried. On principle.

He supposed he was due for another shopping run with Dana anyway; summer fashion would wait for no one and the fact she had put it off for this long meant she had to have taken _some_ pity on his pathetic state after the first few weeks of training, where he spent most of his nights wishing in vain that the distance between his bed and his bathroom wasn't so damn far. Forget the rest of the house; he could only focus on the essentials.

But she needed clothes, which meant she needed a driver, which meant Shane had to drag his worn and bruised body all the way to the mall and back, segregated by several wasted hours he would spend just _waiting_. The only bright side to the whole affair was that he got to drive his mother's car as opposed to his old junker, so the drive could be made with modern comforts like leather seats, cd players, GPS, satellite radio, and _air conditioning_.

After the first few trips in his own car that resulted in Dana complaining about wind-blown hair, Shane's parents had been a lot more generous with their car keys, though Shane had a feeling this had less to do with their daughter's appearance and more to do with their unspoken concern for her well-being while being transported from place to place.

Sure, they'd let Shane drive around in a car that had been on its dying legs for the last three years, but put their _"Precious little sapling_" in the passenger's seat and suddenly they had a crisis on their hands.

Figured.

So that was how he, Shane Clarke, who only this morning was riding the high of being the _only_ air student able to successfully untie his ankles from the tree branch they were stubbornly attached to _and_ make his way to the ground, _on his feet_… that was how he, _"Shane the steadfast and mighty" _(Kevin's words, though Shane wasn't going to discourage them), was reduced to bag carrier and opinion-giver, though he had realized early on never to give his _actual_ opinion. To commit that faux pas would result in Dana's anger from either his complete and total apathy or his nerve that he would declare her choices unsatisfactory.

Her words.

His words had been "whore-ish", but hey, details.

He had learned long ago to stop caring and plaster on as believable smile as he could, and if he just echoed that her choices were good, or that one of her other ones were better it would be _so_ much faster. The less arguing the better. And he never helped her look for more options. Ever. If she even _asked_ him to find another shirt fitting whatever requirements she was demanding he would find a grand total of one, as zero would only lead to more anger and two would result in hours of useless deliberation.

He did not understand what could take so long about picking out clothes. It wasn't hard. He bet his parents felt really smug for conning this off on him, masking it under the action of _"bonding"_ but _knowing_ the horrors that awaited him. This was not bonding; this was a threat. A threat they would laud over his head for good grades and cooperation, but he would not yield. He would tough out a few wasted hours for the sake of _"bonding"_ if it kept him his skateboard.

Family problems, right? Right. Whatever. Shane needed to think of a new mind game to keep himself occupied for the next two or so hours.

"I think I need a few more blouses," Dana declared, leading the way with a confident gait while Shane trailed blindly behind her, forcing himself to remain silent as she guided them into a department store which looked _remarkably_ similar to the other two they had previously visited.

"You know," she continued blithely and Shane snapped his focus back to her as she glanced over her shoulder, sending him an informative look. "A few that are more bright and flow-y. Something that says _'Summer'_."

He wished the way she pushed her hands out and down like an explosion of spirit fingers was a figment of his imagination, but a similar gesture had already happened about three times during this trip, because one could not simply contain themselves when looking for something _'Summer'_.

He thought it might be a fad or something, but the effort it would take to consider it seemed absolutely criminal to exert, so Shane fell back into apathy, dutifully trailing behind his sister and waiting for the torture to end.

It was random chance that he gave the men's section (or junior men's or whatever they called the teenage guy's section nowadays) a passing glance, mostly to see if the stuff they were selling looked exactly like the stuff in all the other stores so he could properly resent his sister for the mileage on his shoes, when his eyes caught sight of a female, coaxing a male through his fitting.

_Aw_, the poor bastard, dragged to the mall by his girlfriend. She probably wanted to spruce him up and bond and _egh_- just the idea of it was enough to make Shane want to make up an excuse for the guy. Just because _he_ was stuck at the mall didn't mean that other poor souls had to be. _Somebody_ should get to survive without mandatory style updates.

There was almost something familiar about the girl though, maybe the guy too, although Shane wouldn't know; he never kept that close a tab on guys. He looked back again, giving one final glance before his sister marched them out of view and narrowed his eyes, taking in the long blonde hair and pale blue clothing, comforting mannerisms as the guy, curly-haired and-

…_huh_, so it was a small world after all.

_Tori_, Shane immediately thought, and even from this distance he knew that profile from anywhere (she _was_ the prettiest of the water students), and if he'd guessed that half of the duo correctly then the other guy must be Dustin, and there _was_ the familiar yellow of the earth students, so it was definitely an option.

The skater wasn't sure if he should be so quick to abandon his pity though; even if Dustin was getting shopping advice from Tori there was still a distinct line between being dragged to do things and being dragged to do _horrible_ things. Shane wasn't sure what to make of it. Would _he_ be willing to go shopping with Tori? Well…yes, but that was entirely for reasons other than attaining new items for his wardrobe and more to do with being around an attractive, seemingly not-awful female. Rare gems, those were. Maybe that was why Dustin was here, though Tori didn't seem like the type that would demand a makeover and Dustin didn't seem like the type to _accept_ one but then again, it wasn't like Shane knew them that well. Heck, he had been surprised when Tori asked him to the movies; what he had done wasn't _that_ impressive, but the way Shane figured it you could never have too many friends.

And, if his gut wasn't steering him wrong, Shane had the slightest feeling Dustin didn't have too many of those, and it wasn't like he was _that_ bad a guy so…

Well, a trip to the movies wouldn't kill Shane. He'd get to spend time with Tori and maybe Dustin would open up some, and then Shane could see why Tori hung around him so much. There had to be something.

"_Shane_."

The irritated call made the air student realize he had stopped walking; choosing to focus on the couple off in the distance, and Dana impatiently strolled back to his side, thinking he was dragging his feet in a petulant protest. Which he had gotten beyond, thanks. He was mature now. Or at least, mature enough.

A frown was fixed in place, small enough to not completely ruin Dana's beauty, but then she paused, realizing that Shane's attention had legitimately been drawn elsewhere. She followed his gaze curiously, taking in the two students off in the distance with a furrowed brow, wondering who they were.

"Do you know them?" she asked, genuinely interested. (Okay, so maybe she wasn't as awful as Shane had made her out to be, but still, _shopping_).

"Yeah," Shane nodded. "They also go to the academy."

Dana made a noncommittal humming sound, showing she had absorbed this knowledge, and then quickly moved on, intent to continue on shopping.

At least, that was what Shane _thought_ she was going to do before she headed off in the wrong direction.

Off towards Tori and Dustin.

"_Dana_," Shane whispered quickly, trailing behind the bold and steadfast strides of his sister. "_What are you doing?"_

"Introducing myself," she answered blithely, like it was the most natural thing in the world. "They're in High School right?"

That figured. Incoming Freshman with big dreams of High School, his sister was already prepared to start networking, anything she needed to get an edge as she moved on to her new school.

"Yeah but-" She darted off to the side and he followed her, bags whiplashing behind him as they made a sharp turn. "They're more like acquaintances."

"Great, that means we'll _both_ work at making friends."

"No way. I am not going to be in the same social group as my _own sister_. Go make your own friends."

"They're going to be juniors right?" Dana asked, completely disregarding his statement, and Shane let out a frustrated growl, trying to think of a good way to put this.

"Dana-"

She stopped and he had to jar to a halt to keep from crashing into her. Shane frowned, turning his look of displeasure to the two sets of eyes staring at them; Tori's as playfully kind as always, Dustin's widened with surprise at the two new entrants.

"Hi," Dana said cheerfully, no traces of the previous argument in her perky tone. "I'm Shane's sister, Dana."

"_Little_ sister," Shane added, because he could and it was true.

For his help he received a short, displeased look over her shoulder and then Dana's eyes were all on Tori, shaking her hand and exchanging pleasant girl small talk about clothing and boys and dragging boys along to find clothing and it was so boring. And horrible. They might actually be _bonding_. Then his sister would have a better relationship with Tori than _Shane_ did and that wasn't fair, that wasn't-

And then the next moment Dana was latching herself onto Dustin's arm, cooing about how cute he looked in his shirt and batting her eyes at him, despite the look of not-so-concealed shock on his face.

Yeah…probably should have expected that.

"So," she murmured, putting on her best set of flirtatious doe eyes. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

The panicked look that followed was completely aimed at Tori, forgoing Shane altogether in favor of the one ally Dustin knew he had, and said something along the lines of _get-it-_**_off_**_-me_.

"Oh, are you shy? _Aw_, that's so sweet. Don't worry, I don't bite."

And now it was _it's-still-on-me-_**_why_**_-is-it-still-on-me?_

…Shane _might_ just lose his movie-watching privileges after this.

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Even Dustin could admit that he had been taking like, huge leaps and bounds where the area of self-growth was concerned. He was letting Tori help him buy new clothes, they were bonding, he had managed not to make a complete fool of himself in public (_and_ he got a hug, which was awesome; Tori hugs were awesome) and then he was suddenly bamboozled by a small female and Shane and the small female _wouldn't_ _give his arm back_ and he liked his arm, they were pals. Dustin used his arm for many things like cooking and fighting and fixing bikes and he couldn't spend the rest of his life with a small female that kept making weird faces at him attached to it, he would never get anything _done_.

…and it'd be kind've weird. It would be weird right? That seemed like a thing that would be out of the ordinary, even if Dustin wasn't the best judge of that, but he was afraid that actually might happen because she _wouldn't_ let go and she kept saying words and he _really_ wanted his arm back.

This would probably require him doing something, seeing as Shane and Tori were too busy being unhelpful people that only looked on when someone got their arm kidnapped.

"That's great," Dustin replied honestly, unable to think of something else to say.

It really _was_ nice to know she wouldn't start gnawing on him with her teeth, always a plus, and that must have been the correct reply because small-female's (Dana? Whatever) smile widened in response. Though that did nothing to lessen the intensity of the crazy-eye thing she had going down.

"Great!" Small Female echoed, super enthusiastic. He had- He wasn't sure what was going on but she was still smiling, so he supposed he wasn't completely messing this up.

In fact, it was kind've nice to make someone happy and he hadn't even done that much.

Alright, scratch the fear, small female could have his arm all she wanted if she continued to be pleased with Dustin's unskilled word-talking. Seemed like a fair enough deal.

Okay…maybe not scratch _all_ the fear, but it wasn't time to run for the hills _yet_.

"Now," Small Female continued, blinking her eyelashes rapidly. She must have gotten something in her eye; he could sympathize. "The first question?"

It took Dustin a few seconds to remember what the first question _was_, the…oh yeah, the girlfriend thing.

He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, studying the small, still-grinning female, and tilted his head to the side. "Like, a girl that's a friend, or a girlfriend-girlfriend?"

"The second one," she chirped, helpful, and hey- it was like he found another Tori! Except she was smaller…and a little more scary, and _kind've_ reminded him of the evil-girls from the past but still, she understood him. _And_ she wasn't getting impatient at all. It was great! This had to be the best day ever.

Then again, they were always patient in the beginning.

"Then no," Dustin replied, pushing that small thought aside, and she brightened at that, though he didn't know _why_ (unless she just _liked_ receiving answers to questions; it didn't matter what they actually where, it was just her little hobby and if that was the case Dustin could totally do that, he could do that until the cows came _home_).

"Alright, that's enough of that."

The smile faded away as Shane bravely removed the small female (something Dustin could have done with _earlier_) and now she was pouting, but Dustin had his arm back and he hadn't even scraped the edge of spazz-itude, so he considered it a victory.

Dustin Brooks, conqueror of small females. He should have tried this out years ago; his height must be giving him super powers or _something_.

For a limited time, at least.

He was honest enough to know it was something he didn't want to risk ever trying.

"_Shane_," the small female – Dana – exclaimed, though Dustin couldn't figure out her tone, actually didn't care as much now that he was free, and he swiftly moved behind Tori because at least he_knew_ _she_ was safe. Really, any happiness he had felt with the little female was the result of optimism, making the best of what he had, and he wasn't the greatest judge of character in the world so little female would stay on the maybe-list. Maybe later. Maybe okay. Maybe never.

You know, the usual items.

"It's nice to meet you Dana," Tori said in her familiar tone of mixed calmness and cheer. She kept her gaze forward but snuck a hand back towards Dustin, gripping the side of his arm lightly in a comforting squeeze. "And it's good to see you Shane."

"You too," the other teen managed, hand still fixed firmly to his little sister's shoulder, and she was back to doing that rapid eye blinking thing again.

Man, there must be a huge piece of lint in there that hated her or something because she could _not_ get it out.

They fell into a not-_totally_ awkward silence? Maybe? Dustin couldn't really tell; it could be just a regular silence but the nerves of scary-female and _Shane_ could be getting to him. It was always an option. But then Tori cleared her throat, nodding to the shopping bags Dustin hadn't seen clutched in Shane's hands.

"Well, we're just…" He could tell she was struggling to find the best way to phrase _help-my-helpless-friend-pick-out-clothes_, so he stepped in.

"Shopping," Dustin supplied, and Tori shot him a grateful smile.

"Shopping." Tori echoed. "And we've still got a ways to go."

_Don't remind me_.

"But maybe later would you like to join us for ice cream?"

The second before Shane responded was the most apprehensive second (okay, overstatement, _one_ of the most apprehensive) of Dustin's very short life, which was stupid but there it was, and then Shane was nodding with a casual smile, because he was Shane and normal and regular and good at speaking, and normal, regular people could do things like _have_ casual smiles and not have to worry about the way they communicated. For that Dustin wanted to hate him but knew he'd never really be able to. It wasn't Shane's fault he had skills.

_And_ he had stuck up for Dustin, so any response to this guy that wasn't pure gratefulness would be the whackest of whack. And rude.

"Sounds good," Shane replied, _subdued_ smile on his face. "I'll see you guys later."

"Right," Dana – small female – chirped as Shane began to lead her away. "_We'll_ see you-"

"Who is this 'we'?" Shane asked, tone falling into a category Dustin could recognize anywhere. That would be the older-to-younger sibling fight. "_You_ are going home."

"_Shane_," Dana pouted, if Dustin had his younger-sibling responses sorted out correctly, and Shane stubbornly plowed ahead, making his way out of sight.

After that the argument would continue but Shane would probably win because…well, it only seemed fair. The fact that Dustin had come to that conclusion purely based on the fact that Liv had won the majority of her arguments with _him_ might be what some called "unsupported" or "not related" or whatever those detectives on Law and Order said, but Dustin decided to go with his reasoning anyway.

There was also a chance he was _really_ hoping for Dana not to show up to celebratory-ice-cream time, but _obviously_ that wasn't incentive to root for Shane.

Shane was just…a likeable guy. Dustin could want good things to happen to him. That wasn't weird.

"So," Tori began, turning to face Dustin as she continued squeeze his arm in a comforting manner. "That was…"

"She scared me," he admitted.

Tori laughed, _with him_, and even Dustin could feel himself begin to smile again as she looked on him with sparkling eyes. "I was going to go with _intense,_ but scary works."

"Chocolate overload," Dustin said, nodding knowingly, and that got him another heartfelt laugh, their own inside joke, and Tori beamed at him.

"Yep, and now you know the wonders of-"

"Subtlety," Dustin finished.

She lifted her eyebrows at him, pleased and happy; not happy because she was pleased but two separate things and yeah, Dustin knew enough to distinguish that, and then she shooed him back to the dressing room with other t-shirts and button-ups and sweaters in tow, all of them featuring yellow, and Dustin, for the first time in a _really_ long time, found himself enjoying the necessity of shopping for clothes.

And that really did make it the _best day ever_.

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><p>Endnotes:<p>

So…been awhile?

I hit Spring Break and figured well, it was about time for an update. Hope this chapter makes up for just a _sliver_ of the wait.

Thanks to WWMTgirl for reviewing _and_ delivering unto me some wonderful ideas about the workings of the Thunder Academy. Much obliged Madame; it's always a pleasure to find someone with which to gab about Power Rangers.

As for the chapter, Dustin's rambling was inspired by: ecokitty. deviantart gallery /#/d5c bsfo

And also, you know Dustin would be the kind of guy who would use the internet as a crutch. _You know it._

Until next time :)


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